A 






€l)t Catbolic Series. 



%* For Prospectus indicating the character and purpose of the Catholic 
Series, and for List of Books already published, see Catalogue at the end of 
this work. 



THE 



VOCATION OF THE SCHOLAR. 



JOHANN GOTTLIEB FICHTE. 



©ranglateb from tju (Ketman, 



By WILLIAM SMITH. 



" To this am I called, to bear witness to the Truth ; ray life, my fortunes are of 
little moment,— the results of my life are of infinite moment. I am a Priest of 
Truth ; I am in her pay ; I have bound myself to do all things, to venture all 
things, to suffer all things for her."— Page 59. 



LONDON : 
JOHN CHAPMAN, 121, NEWGATE STREET. 



M.DCCC.XLV1I. 




ibrarv of Congress 




2009 



455456 



The following Lectures were delivered soon 
after Fichte's arrival at Jena in 1794 to an audience 
composed of students from all departments of the Univer- 
sity; with the view of awakening in their minds a more 
adequate conception of the exalted nature of their calling 
and its attendant duties. To this end Fichte sets forth, 
with that energy of thought and fervency of style which 
are his peculiar characteristics, the vocation of man as an 
individual, and as a member of society; the sources of the 
different classes into which society is divided, and the 
duties arising from these distinctions; and lastly the voca- 
tion of that particular class whose separate calling has its 
origin in the common desire of man to know, and who have 
chosen the acquisition and imparting of knowledge as their 
share of the general labours of the race; — assigning to the 
duties of the Scholar, as the Teacher and Guide of Mankind, 
the highest place among the varied forms of human activity; 
and to the Scholar himself, in so far as he worthily fulfils 
these duties, the most honourable place in human Society. 
The present publication may be considered as, in some 
respects, introductory to that which the Translator has 
already offered to the English reader, under the title of 



1 valid ontology 00 the basis; of Reid'fi theory — or rather ab- 
dication — of philosophy, that we now advert to this essay. 
However easy the task, the present is not the fitting op- 
portunity for its performance. Indeed the Ideal Philosophy 
has no cause to quarrel with Dr. Chalmers, from whose 
-ntially truthful and generous nature its inherent no- 
bleneaa has drawn forth a tribute which must give it new 
importance in a quarter where such a recognition was 
least of all expected. Before the results of the antici- 
pated "collision" become apparent, many men will have 
weighed whatever is important in these matters in the 
silence of their own thoughts; and before the tribunal of 
many a mind to whom Scotland is even now looking for 
her future religious teaching, her theology will be sum- 
moned to answer this question among others, — How it is 
to reconcile its asserted faith in an All-Perfect God, with 
adherence to a philosophy which reduces the Ideas we 
possess of Infinite Truth, Beauty, and Goodness, to mere 
negations of experience. 

Our purpose in adverting to this subject at all is one 
more akin to the object of the present publication. It is 
to record our earnest protest against the singular conclusion 
by which Dr. Chalmers endeavours to restore harmony be- 
tween hifl sympathies and his theology; — namely, that the 
prevailing admiration for German philosophies is altoge- 
ther five of their truth. He gravely settles himself 
down in the hypothesis that these new doctrines, which 
have wrong from him an unwilling admiration, have, after 
all, nothing .serious about them; — are at best only feats of 
intellectual dexterity, not possessing, and indeed not de- 



manding, any "sustaining basis of truth or evidence;" — 
that they are akin to the novel or the drama, — addressed, 
indeed, to a different audience, and perhaps designed to 
minister to the gratification of higher appetites, but not 
essentially different from these vehicles of amusement (for 
the Reviewer seems to attach no higher value than this to 
any form of literature), and therefore aptly enough de- 
scribed by the appellation of the " theatricals of science." It 
would be in vain to reason against such assertions as these, 
wholly unsupported as they are by any species of evidence. 
Such sweeping dogmatism carries with it, to most minds, its 
own antidote ; and the case of any one who should seriously 
entertain such gratuitous assertions will scarcely be im- 
proved by refutation, — for moral scepticism cannot be cured 
by argument. If there is one point more than another in 
which the higher philosophy and literature of Germany can 
claim a proud superiority over that of every other nation, it 
is this very point of its earnestness. Nowhere can history 
point to a period in which the studies that most of all dig- 
nify and adorn human life, have been pursued with a more 
elevated devotion or guided by a loftier morality. The 
reader who honestly seeks truth for her own sake, may 
learn in the following discourses how those " theatricals of 
science" were viewed by one of the noblest men who ever 
laboured for the advancement of humanity. 

As to Ficiite, the present writer feels that no language 
of his could so worthily express the deep and earnest ad- 
miration which the character and doctrines of that great 
man must command from every sincere and upright mind, 

a 3 



G 

as the eloquent words of Mr, Cablylb, when speaking o£ 
the Critical Philosophy generally, in his celebrated article 
on the state of Gterman Literature : — 

Lei the reader believe US, the Critical Philosophers, 
whatever they may be, are no mystics, and have no fellow- 
ship with mystics. What a mystic is, we have said above. 
But Kant, Pichte, and Schelling, are men of cool judg- 
ment, and determinate energetic character; men of science 
and profound and universal investigation; nowhere does 
the world, in all its bearings, spiritual or material, theo- 
retic or practical, lie pictured in clearer or truer colours 
than in such heads as these. We have heard Kant esti- 
mated as a spiritual brother of Bohme : as justly might we 
take Sir Isaac Newton for a spiritual brother of Count 
Swedenborg, and Laplace's Mechanism of the Heavens for 
a peristyle to the Vision of the New Jerusalem. That this 
is no extravagant comparison, we appeal to any man ac- 
quainted with any single volume of Kant's writings. Nei- 
ther, though Schelling's system differs still more widely 
from ours, can we reckon Schelling a mystic. He is a man 
evidently of deep insight into individual things; speaks 
wisely, and reasons with the nicest accuracy, on all matters 
where we understand his data. Fairer might it be in us 
to say that we had not yet appreciated his truth, and 
therefore could not appreciate his error. But above all, the 
mysticism of Fichte might astonish us. The cold, colossal, 
adamantine spirit, standing erect and clear, like a Cato 
Major among degenerate men; fit to have been the teacher 
of the Stoa, and to have discoursed of Beauty and Virtue in 
the groves of Academe ! Our reader has seen some words 



of Fichte's : are these like words of a mystic ? We state 
Fichte's character, as it is known and admitted by men of 
all parties among the Germans, when we say that so robust 
an intellect; a soul so calm, so lofty, massive, and immovable, 
has not mingled in philosophical discussion since the time 
of Luther. We figure his motionless look, had he heard 
this charge of mysticism ! For the man rises before us, 
amid contradiction and debate, like a granite mountain 
amid clouds and winds. Ridicule, of the best that could 
be commanded, has been already tried against him ; but it 
could not avail. What was the wit of a thousand wits to 
him? The cry of a thousand choughs assaulting that old cliff 
of granite : seen from the summit, these, as they winged 
the midway air, showed scarce so gross as beetles, and their 
cry was seldom even audible. Fichte's opinions may be 
true or false ; but his character, as a thinker, can be slightly 
valued only by such as know it ill ; and as a man, approved 
by action and suffering, in his life and in his death, he 
ranks with a class of men who were common only in better 
ages than ours. 

" The Critical Philosophy has been regarded by persons 
of approved judgment, and nowise directly implicated in 
the furthering of it, as distinctly the greatest intellectual 
achievement of the century in which it came to light. Au- 
gust Wilhelm Schlegel has stated in plain terms his belief, 
that, in respect of its probable influence on the moral cul- 
ture of Europe, it stands on a line with the Reformation. 
We mention Schlegel as a man whose opinion has a known 
value among ourselves. But the worth of Kant's Philosophy 
is not to be gathered from votes alone. The noble system 



8 

of morality, the purer theology, the lofty yiews of man's 
nature derived Bpom it ; nay, perhaps, the very discussion 

of Such rial t'T-, to which it gave so strong an impetus, 
hare told with remarkable and beneficial influence on the 
whole spiritual character of Germany. No writer of any 
importance in that country, be he acquainted or not with 
the Critical Philosophy, but breathes a spirit of devoutness 
ami elevation more or less directly drawn from it. Such 
men as Goethe and Schiller cannot exist without effect in 
any literature, or in any century: but if one circumstance 
more than another has contributed to forward their en- 
deavours and introduce that higher tone into the literature 
of Germany, it has been this philosophical system; to 
which, in wisely believing its results, or even in wisely de- 
nying them, all that was lofty and pure in the genius of 
poetry, or the reason of man, so readily allied itself." — 
Edinburgh Review, 1827. 



Edinburgh, April 1847. 



THE 



VOCATION OF THE SCHOLAR. 



by 



JOHANN GOTTLIEB FICHTE. 



CONTENTS. 



Author's Preface, V a( J e 13 

LECTURE I. 

The Absolute Vocation of Man, 17 

LECTURE II. 
The Vocation of Man in Society, 26 

LECTURE III. 
The Distinction of Classes in Society, 37 

LECTURE IV. 

The Vocation of the Scholar, 49 

LECTURE V. 

Examination of Rousseau's Doctrine concerning the Influence 
of Art and Science on the well-being of Man, . 61 



I 



PREFACE. 



These Lectures were delivered last Summer before 
a considerable number of the young men studying at 
this University. They form the introduction to a 
whole which the Author intends to complete, and, 
when time permits, to lay before the public. A 
motive — which to mention here would contribute 
neither to a just estimation of these pages, nor to a 
right understanding of them — induced him to allow 
these first five Lectures to be published by themselves. 
Their being printed just as they were delivered, with- 
out the alteration of a single word, must be his excuse 
for many inaccuracies of expression. In consequence 
of other occupations, he was unable, even at first, to 
give to these discourses the polish which he desired. 
Declamation is a valuable auxiliary in oral communi- 
cation. To alter them for the press was for a similar 
reason impossible. 

There are in these Lectures many assertions which 
may not please all classes of readers. But for this the 



14 PREFA< 

Author is not to blame: — in all his inquiries lie has 
troubled himself very little as to what was likely to 
please his hearers or to be disagreeable to them : Truth 
alone has been his object, — and what he, according to 
his best knowledge, held to be true, that he has boldly 
declared, so far as he was able. 

But besides that class of readers who have reasons for 
their dissatisfaction with what I advance in these Lec- 
tures, there are others who hold such speculations as 
at best useless, because they cannot be carried out into 
practice, and because they find nothing in the actual 
world, as it is now constituted, at all corresponding 
thereto; — indeed it is to be feared that the greater 
number of otherwise honest, respectable, well-behaved, 
sober-minded people will thus judge of them. For 
although, in all ages, those who have been capable 
of raising themselves to ideas, have always found 
themselves in a minority, — yet, for reasons which I 
may well be excused for withholding here, their number 
lias never been less than at the present time. Whilst, 
within the circle which common experience has drawn 
around us, men take larger and more general views, 
and pass more accurate judgments on the phenomena 
ated to them, than perhaps at any former period; 
the majority are completely misled and dazzled, so 
soon as they take a single step beyond this limit. If 
it be impossible to re-kindle in such minds the once- 



PREFACE. 15 

extinguished sparks of higher genius, we must let 
them remain without disturbance within that circle ; 
and in so far as they are there useful and necessary, we 
must not derogate from their value in and for such a 
sphere. But when they desire to draw down to their 
own level all to which they cannot raise themselves ; — 
when, for example, they would insist that everything 
which is printed should be made as practically useful 
as a cookery book, or a ready reckoner, or a service 
regulation, arid decry everything which cannot so be 
used, — then indeed do they perpetrate a great wrong. 

That the Ideal cannot be manifested in the Actual 
world, we know as well as they do, — perhaps better. 
All we maintain is, that the Actual must be judged by 
the Ideal, and modified in accordance with it by those 
who feel themselves capable of such a task. Be it 
granted that they cannot convince themselves of this ; 
— being what they are, they lose very little thereby, 
and humanity loses nothing. This alone becomes clear, 
that they have not been reckoned on in the great plan 
for the ennoblement of Humanity. This will assuredly 
proceed on its glorious way; — over them will kindly 
Nature watch, vouchsafing them, in proper season, rain 
and sunshine, fitting nourishment and undisturbed di- 
gestion, and therewithal comfortable thoughts. 

Jena, Michaelmas 1794. 



: 



LECTURE I. 



THE ABSOLUTE VOCATION OF MAN. 



The purpose of the Lectures which I commence to-day is 
in part known to you. I would answer, or rather I would 
prompt you to answer for yourselves, the following ques- 
tions: — What is the vocation of the Scholar'? — what is his 
relation to humanity as a whole, as well as to particular 
classes of men? — by what means can he most surely fulfil 
his high vocation? 

The Scholar is invested with a distinctive character only 
in so far as he is contrasted with other men ; the idea of his 
calling arises from comparison, from his relation to Society 
at large, — by which we understand not the State merely, 
but generally that aggregate of reasonable men who exist- 
near each other in space, and are thus placed in mutual 
relations with each other. 

Hence the vocation of the Scholar considered as such is 
only conceivable in society, and thus the answer to the 
question, — " What is the vocation of the Scholar?" — pre- 
supposes the answer to another question, — "What is the 
vocation of man in Society?" 

Again : the answer to this question presupposes the an- 
swer to another still higher; namely this, — " What is the 
vocation of Man?" — i. e. of Man considered simply as man. 
— according to the mere abstract idea of humanity; — 

b2 



■ • . I. 

ill any relation which is not Included in 
the absolute idea of himself.' 

I may be permitted to Bay to you at present without 
proof, what is doubtless already known to many among you, 

and what is obscurely, but not the loss strongly, felt by 
others, that all philosophy, — all human thought and teach- 
ing, — all your studies, — especially all which I shall address 
to you, — can tend to nothing else than to the answering 
of these questions, and particularly of the last and highest 
of them, — What is the absolute vocation of Man? and what 
are the means by which he can most surely fulfil it? 

Philosophy is not essentially necessary to the mere 
/ "1" this vocation; but the whole of philosophy, and 
indeed a fundamental and all-embracing philosophy, is 
implied in a distinct, clear, and complete insight into it. 
Yet this absolute vocation of man is the subject of to-day's 
lecture. You will consequently perceive that what I have 
to say on this subject on the present occasion cannot be 
traced down from its first principles unless I were now to 
treat of all philosophy. But I can appeal to your own 
inward sense of truth, and establish it thereon. You 
perceive likewise, that as the question which I shall answer 
in my public lectures, — What is the vocation of the 
Scholar? or what is the same thing, as will appear in due 
time, the vocation of the highest, truest man? — is the 

object of all philosophical inquires ; — so this question, 
— What is the absolute vocation of man? — the answer to 
which I intend to investigate fundamentally in my private 
lectures, but only to point out very briefly to-day, — is the 

object of such investigations. I now proceed to the 
to this question. 
What the properly Spiritual in man — the pv/re Ego, — 

idered absolutely in itself, — isolated, and apart from all 

ion to anything out of itself: — would be — this question 
IS unanswerable, and strictly taken is self-contradictory. It 



THE ABSOLUTE VOCATION OF MAN. 

is not indeed true that the pu/re Ego is a product of the 
Non-Ego — (so I denominate everything which is conceived 
of as existing external to the Ego, distinguished from, and 
opposed to it :) — it is not true, I say, that the pure Ego is a 
product of the Ron-Ego; — such a doctrine would indicate 
a transcendental materialism which is entirely opposed to 
reason; — but it is certainly true, and will be fully proved 
in its proper place, that the Ego is not, and can never 
become conscious of itself, except under its empirical deter- 
minations; and that these empirical determinations neces- 
sarily imply something external to the Ego. Even the body 
of man,— that which he calls his body, — is something exter- 
nal to the jS^o.' Without this relation he would be no longer 
a man, but something absolutely inconceivable by us, if we 
can call that something which is to us inconceivable. Thus 
to consider man absolutely and by himself, does not mean, 
either here or elsewhere in these lectures, to consider him 
as a pure Ego, without relation to anything external to the 
Ego; but only to think of him apart from all relations to 
reasonable beings like himself. 

And, so considered, — What is his vocation % — what be- 
longs to him as Man, that does not belong to those known 
existences which are not men % — by what mark is he to be 
distinguished from all we do not call man amongst the 
beings with which we are acquainted % 

Since I must set out from something positive, and as I 
cannot here proceed from the absolute postulate — the 
axiom — " I am;" — I must lay down, hypothetically in the 
meantime, a principle which exists indestructibly in the 
feelings of all men — which is the result of all philosophy, 
— which may be clearly proved, as I will prove it in my 
private lectures; — the principle, that as surely as man is a 
rational being, he is the end of his own existence; — i. e. he 
does not exist to the end that something else may be, but 
he exists absolutely for his own sake, — his being is its own 



20 LIGTUBE I. 

ultimate object ; — or, what is the same thing', man cannot, 
without contradiction to himself, demand an object of his 

existence, lie is. because he is. This character of absolute 
being — of existence for his own sake alone, — is his charac- 
teristic or vocation, in so far as he is considered solely as a 
rational being. 

But there belongs to man not only absolute being, — being 
for itself, — but also particular determinations of this being : 
— he not only is, but he is something definite; — he does 
not merely say, — "I am," — but he adds, — "I am this or 
that." So far as his absolute existence is concerned, he 
is a reasonable being; — in so far as he is something beyond 
this, — What is lie? This question we must answer. 

That which he is in this respect, he is, not primarily 
because he himself exists, but because something other than 
himself exists. The empirical self- consciousness; — that is, 
the consciousness of a determinate vocation, is not possible 
except on the supposition of a Non-Ego, as we have already 
said, and in the proper place will prove. This Non-Ego 
must approach and influence him through his passive 
capacity, which we call sense. Thus in so far as man possesses 
a special existence, he is a sensuous being. But still, as we 
have already said, he is also a reasonable being; — and his 
Reason must not be superseded by Sense, but both must exist 
in harmony with each other. In this connexion the prin- 
ciple propounded above, — Man is, because he is, — is changed 
into the following, — Whatever Man is, that he should be, 
tolely because lie is ; — i. e. all that he is should proceed from 
his pure Ego, — from his own simple personality; — he should 
be all that he is, absolutely because he is an Ego, — and 
whatever he cannot be solely upon that ground, he should 
absolutely not be. This as yet obscure formula, we shall 
immediately illustrate. 

The pwe Ego can only be conceived of negatively, — 
as the opposite of the Non-Ego, the character of which is 



THE ABSOLUTE VOCATION OF MAX. 2 1 

multiplicity, — consequently as perfect and absolute Unity ; 
— it is thus always one and the same, — always identical 
with itself. Hence the above formula may also be expressed 
thus, — Man should always be at one with himself, — he 
should never contradict his own being. The pure Ego can 
never stand in opposition to itself, for there is in it no 
diversity, but it constantly remains one and the same ; but 
the empirical Ego, determined and determinable by outward 
things, may contradict itself; and as often as it does so, it is 
a sure sign that it is not determined according to the form 
of the pure Ego, — not by itself, but by something external 
to itself. It should not be so ; — for man is his own end, — 
he should determine himself, and never allow himself to be 
determined by anything foreign to himself; — he should be 
what he is, because he wills it, and ought to will it. The 
determination of the empirical Ego should be such as might 
endure for ever. I may here, in passing, and for the sake 
of illustration merely, express the fundamental principle of 
morality in the following formula: — "So act, that thou 
mayest look upon the dictate of thy will as an eternal law 
to thyself" 

The ultimate vocation of every finite, rational being is 
thus absolute unity, constant identity, perfect harmony 
with himself. This absolute identity is the form of the 
pure Ego, and the one true form of it; — or rather, by the 
possibility to conceive of this identity will the expression of 
that form be recognized. Whatever determination can be 
conceived of as enduring eternally, is in conformity with 
the pure form of the Ego. Let not this be understood par- 
tially. Not the Will alone should be always at one with 
itself, — this belongs to morality only; — but all the powers 
of man, which are essentially but one power, and only be- 
come distinguished in their application to different objects, 
should all accord in perfect unity and harmony with each 
other. 



i.irri ki: i. 

The empirical determinations oi' our Ego depend however, 

for the most part, not upon ourselves but upon something 

external to us. The Will is, indeed, within its own circle 
— i.e. in the compass of the objects to which it can be 

applied when they have become known to man — perfectly 
free; — as will be strictly proved at the proper time. But 
sense, and the conceptions in which it is presupposed, are 
not free, but depend upon things external to the Ego, the 
character of which is multiplicity not identity. If the Ego 
is to be constantly at one with itself in this respect also, it 
must strive to operate directly upon the things themselves, 
on which the sensations and perceptions of man depend; — 
man must endeavour to modify these, and to bring them 
into harmony with the pure form of his Ego, so that his 
conceptions of them likewise, so far as these depend upon 
the nature of their objects, may harmonize with that form. 
This modification of things according to our necessary ideas, 
is not however possible by mere Will, but requires also a 
certain skill, which is acquired and improved by practice. 

Further, what is still more important, our empirical de- 
terminable Ego receives from that unrestricted operation of 
external things upon it, to which we subject ourselves with- 
out reservation so long as our reason is still undeveloped, 
certain tendencies which cannot possibly harmonize with 
the form of our pure Ego, since they proceed from things 
external to us. In order to eradicate these and restore the 
pure original form, Will is not sufficient of itself, but we 
need besides, that skill which is acquired and improved by 
practice. 

The acquisition of this skill, — partly to subdue and era- 
dicate the improper tendencies which have arisen within us 
prior to the awakening of Reason, and the consciousness of 
our own independence — partly to modify external things, 
and alter them in accordance with our ideas, — the acquisi- 
tion of this skill, I say, is called Culture; and the particu- 



THE ABSOLUTE VOCATION OF MAN. 23 

lar degree of it, when acquired, is likewise so denominated. 
Culture differs only in degree, but it is capable of infinite 
gradations. It is the last and highest means to the attain- 
ment of the great end of man, when considered as of a 
composite nature, rational and sensuous; — complete har- 
mony with himself : — it is in itself his ultimate end if he is 
considered only as a sensuous being. Sense should be cul- 
tivated : — that is the highest and ultimate purpose which 
can be entertained with respect to it. 

The final result of all we have said is as follows : — The 
perfect harmony of man with himself, — and that this may 
be practicable, the harmony of all external things with his 
necessary practical ideas of them, — the ideas which deter- 
mine what these things should be; — this is the ultimate 
and highest purpose of human existence. This harmony is, 
to use the language of the critical philosophy, the highest 
Good; which highest Good, considered absolutely, as follows 
from what we have already said, has no parts, but is per- 
fectly simple and indivisible, — it is the complete harmony 
of a rational being with himself. But in reference to a 
rational being who is dependent on external things, it may 
be considered twofold ; — as the harmony of the Will with 
the idea of an Eternal Will, or, moral goodness; and as the 
harmony of external things with our Will (our rational will, 
of course), or happiness. It is thus, let it be remembered 
in passing, so far from being true that man is determined 
to moral goodness by the desire for happiness, that the 
idea of happiness itself and the desire for it, rather arise in 
the first place out of the moral nature of man. Not, That 
which produces happiness is good ; — but, That only ivhich is 
good produces happiness. Without morality, happiness is 
impossible. Agreeable sensations may indeed exist without 
it, or even in opposition to it, — and in the proper place we 
shall see why this is the case; — but these are not happiness : 
frequently they are much opposed to it. 



LBOTURH i. 

To BQbjecl all irrational nature to himself, to rule over it 

without restraint and according to his own laws, is fche 

ult J of man; which ultimate end is perfectly un- 

attainable, and must continue to be so, unless he were to 

eease to be man, and become God, It is a part of the idea 
of man that his ultimate end must be unattainable; — the 
way to it endless. Hence it is not the vocation of man to 
attain this end. But he may and should constantly approach 
nearer to it : — and thus the unceasing approximation to this 
end is his true vocation as Man; i. e. as a rational but finite, 
as a sensuous but free being. If, as we are surely entitled 
to do, we call this complete harmony with oneself perfec- 
tion, in the highest meaning of the word; then perfection 
is the highest unattainable end of man, whilst eternal per- 
fecting is his vocation. He exists, that he may become ever 
morally better himself, and make all around him physically, 
and, if he be considered as a member of society, morally 
better also, — and thus augment his own happiness without 
limit. 

This is the vocation of man, considered as isolated, i.e. 
apart from all relation to reasonable beings like himself. 
We however are not thus isolated, and although I cannot 
now direct your attention to the general interunion of all 
rational beings with each other, yet must I cast a glance 
upon the relation with you, into which I enter to-day. It is 
that noble vocation which I have now briefly pointed out, 
that I would elevate into perfect clearness in the minds of 
many aspiring young men — which I desire to make the 
pre-eminent object, and constant guide of your lives ; — 
young men who are destined on their part again to operate 
most powerfully on humanity ; — in narrower or wider circles, 
by teaching or action, or both, to extend one day to. others 
the culture they have themselves received ; and everywhere 
to raise our common brotherhood to a higher stage of cul- 
ture ; — young men, in teaching whom I in all probability 



TIIE ABSOLUTE VOCATION OF MAN. 2b 

teach jet unborn millions of our race. If some among you 
have kindly believed that I feel the dignity of this my 
peculiar vocation, — that in all my speculations and teaching 
I shall make it my highest aim to contribute to the culture 
and elevation of humanity in you, and in all with whom you 
may ever have a common point of contact, — that I hold all 
philosophy and all knowledge which does not tend towards 
this object, as vain and worthless ; — if you have so thought 
of me, I may perhaps venture to say that you have judged 
rightly of my desire. — How far my ability may correspond 
to this wish, rests not altogether on me, — it depends in 
part upon circumstances which are beyond our control. It 
depends in part also on you; — on your attention, which I 
solicit ; on your private diligence, on which I reckon with 
trustful assurance ; on your confidence^ to which I commend 
myself, and which I shall strive to justify by my deeds. 



I 26 ) 



LECTURE II. 



THE VOCATION OF MAN IN SOCIETY. 



There are many questions which Philosophy must answer 
before she can assume the character of knowledge and 
science : — questions which are shunned by the Dogmatist, 
and which the Sceptic only ventures to point out at the risk 
of being charged with irrationality or wickedness, or both. 

If I would not treat in a shallow and superficial manner a 
subject respecting which I believe that I possess some funda- 
mental knowledge, — if I would not conceal, and pass over 
in silence, difficulties which I see right well, — it will be my 
fate in these Lectures to touch upon many of those hitherto 
almost undisturbed questions, without, however, being able 
to exhaust them completely ; and, at the risk of being mis- 
understood or misinterpreted, to give mere hints towards 
more extended thought, — mere directions towards more 
perfect knowledge, where I would rather have probed the 
subject to the bottom. If I supposed that there were 
among you many of those popular philosophers, who easily 
solve all difficulties without labour or reflection, by the aid 
of* what they call sound Common Sense, I would not often 
ascend this chair without anxiety. 

Among these questions may be classed the two following, 
which must be answered, with others, before any natural 
right is so much as possible; — first — By what authority 



T1IE VOCATION OF MAN IN SOCIETY. 27 

does man call a particular portion of the physical world his 
body ? how does he come to consider this body as belonging 
to his Ego, whereas it is altogether opposed to it % — and 
second — On what grounds does man assume and admit 
the existence around him of rational beings like himself, 
whereas such beings are by no means immediately revealed 
to him in consciousness % 

I have to-day to establish the Vocation of Man in 
Society; and the accomplishment of this task presupposes 
the solution of the latter question. By Society I mean the 
relation of reasonable beings to each other. The idea of 
Society is not possible without the supposition that rational 
beings do really exist around us, and without some charac- 
teristic marks whereby we may distinguish them from all 
other beings that are not rational, and consequently do not 
belong to society. How do we arrive at this supposition? 
— what are these distinctive marks ? This is the question 
which I must answer in the first place. 

" We have acquired both from experience : we know from 
" experience that rational beings like ourselves exist around 
" us, and also the marks by which they are distinguished 
" from irrational creatures." This might be the answer of 
those who are unaccustomed to strict philosophical inquiry. 
But such an answer would be superficial and unsatisfac- 
tory ; it would indeed be no answer to our question, but to 
to an entirely different one. The experience which is here 
appealed to, is also felt by the Egoists, who nevertheless are 
not thoroughly refuted by it. Experience only teaches us 
that the conception of reasonable beings around us is a part 
of our empirical consciousness; and about that there is 
no dispute, — no Egoist has ever denied it. The question 
is, whether there be anything beyond this conception which 
corresponds to the conception itself; whether reasonable 
beings exist around us independently of our conceptions of 
them, and even if we had no such conceptions; — and on 



20 LEOIUBfl CI, 

this matter experience has nothing whatever to beach us so 
Burelj aa it is only experience; that is to say, — the system 
of our conceptions. 

Experience can at most teach us that there arc pheno- 
mena which appear to be the results of rational causes; but 
it can never teach US that these causes actually exist as rea- 
sonable beings in themselves, for being in itself is no object 
of experience. 

We ourselves first introduce such a being into experi- 
ence ; — it is only we ourselves who explain our experience 
by assuming the existence of rational beings around us. 
But by what right do we furnish this explanation? This 
right must be strictly proved before it is made use of, for 
it- validity can only be grounded on its evidence, and not 
upon its actual use: — and thus we have not advanced a 
single step, but return again to the question with which we 
set out: — How do we come to assume and admit the ex- 
istence of reasonable beings around us ? 

The theoretical domain of philosophy is unquestionably 
exhausted by the fundamental researches of the Critical 
School : all questions which still remain unanswered, must 
be answered upon practical principles, — and in this way I 
shall now proceed. We must now try whether the proposed 
question can be answered on such principles. 

The highest impulse in man is, according to our last 
lecture, the impulse towards Identity, — towards perfect 
harmony with himself; — and in order that he maybe in 
constant harmony with himself, — towards the harmony of 
[Jl external things with his necessary ideas of them. There 
must not merely be nothing contradictory to his ideas, so 
that the existence or non-existence of an external represen- 
of these ideas might be indifferent to him, but there 
must actually be something corresponding to his ideas. All 
the ideas which exist in the Ego must have a represen- 
tative — an antitype — in the Non-Ego : — thus is his impulse 
determined 



THE VOCATION OF MAN IN SOCIETY. 29 

There exists in man the idea of Reason, and of reasonable 
acts and thoughts, and he is necessitated to realize this 
idea not only within himself but also without himself. It 
is thus one of his wants that there should be around him 
reasonable beings like himself. 

He cannot produce such beings; but he lays the idea of 
them at the foundation of his observation of the Non-Ego, 
and expects to find something there corresponding to it. 
The first mark of rationality which presents itself is of a 
merely negative character, — efficiency founded on ideas — 
activity guided by a purpose. Whatever bears the marks 
of design may have a reasonable author; that to which the 
notion of design cannot be applied, has certainly no reason- 
able author. But this characteristic is ambiguous; — the 
agreement of many things in one end is the mark of design, 
but there are many kinds of agreement which may be ex- 
plained by mere natural laws, — if not by mechanical, then 
by organic laws; — hence we still require a distinctive mark 
whereby we may confidently infer from some particular 
phenomenon the existence of a reasonable cause. Nature 
proceeds, even in the fulfilment of her designs, by necessary 
laws; — Reason always proceeds with freedom. Hence the 
the agreement of many things in one end which is pursued 
with freedom, is the sure and infallible characteristic of 
rationality as manifested in its results. We now inquire, 
— How can man distinguish a phenomenon in his experi- 
ence produced by necessity, from a phenomenon produced 
by freedom? 

I cannot be immediately conscious of a freedom which 
exists out of myself, — I cannot even be conscious of a free- 
dom which exists within myself, that is, of my own freedom ; 
for essential freedom is the first condition of consciousness, 
and hence cannot belong to its sphere of observation. But 
I may be conscious of this, — that I am not conscious of any 
other cause for a particular determination of my empirical 

c2 



urn Ki: ii. 

through my will, than this will itself j — and this non- 
consciousness of constraining cause may be called a con- 
sciousness of freedom, if it be duly explained beforehand; 
and we shall call it so here. In this sense, then, man may 
be conscious of his own free activity. 

]f through our own free activity, of which wc arc con- 
scious in the sense above indicated, the character of the 
activity in the substance which experience presents to us is 
so changed, that this activity is no longer to be explained 
according to the law by which wc formerly judged it, but 
according to that which wc have laid at the foundation of 
our own free action, and which is quite opposed to the 
former j — then we cannot explain this altered view of the 
activity apparent in experience, otherwise than by the 
supposition that the cause to which we refer it is likewise 
reasonable and free. Hence arises, — to use the Kantean 
terminology, — a recijirocal activity according to ideas, — a 
commwnity pervaded by design; — and it is this which I call 
Society. The idea of Society is thus strictly defined. 

It is one of the fundamental impulses of man to be ne- 
cessitated to assume the existence around him of reasonable 
beings like himself; but he can only assume their existence 
under the condition of entering into Society with them, ac- 
cording to the meaning of that word as above explained. 
The Social Impulse thus belongs to the fundamental impulses 
of man. It is man's vocation to live in Society — he must 
live in Society; — he is no complete man, but contradicts 
his own being, if he lives in a state of isolation. 

ISTou hco Low important it is not to confound the abstract 
idea of Society, with that particular empirically-conditioned 
of Society, which we call the State. Political Society 
ia not a part of the absolute purpose of human life (what- 
sit man may have said to the contrary); but it is, 
under certain conditions, a possible means towards the for- 

on of a perfect Society. Like all human institutions, 



THE VOCATION OF MAN IN SOCIETY. 31 

which arc merely means to an end, the State constantly 
tends towards its own annihilation ; the ultimate aim of all 
government is to make government superfluous. That age 
is of a surety not now present with us, — and I know not 
how many myriads, or perhaps myriads of myriads of years 
may elapse before it arrive, — (we have not now to deal 
with a practical rule of life, but with the vindication of a 
speculative principle) ; — that age is not now, but it is cer- 
tain that in the a priori, fore-ordered course of the human 
race such a period does exist, when all political combina- 
tions shall have become unnecessary. That is the time when, 
in place of strength or cunning, Keason alone shall be ac- 
knowledged as the supreme judge of all; — acknowledged I 
say; for although men may even then go astray, and by their 
errors do hurt to their fellow-men, yet they will then be 
open to conviction of their error, and when convinced of 
it, will be willing to return and make amends for their 
fault. Until this age shall arrive, we cannot be true men. 

According to what we have said, free reciprocal activity is 
the positive character of Society. It is an end to itself; 
and hence is effected solely and absolutely for its own sake. 
This assertion, that Society is its own end, is however not 
at all incompatible with another, — that the form of this 
association should possess a special law which shall give it a 
more definite aim. 

The fundamental Impulse of humanity was to discover 
reasonable beings like ourselves, — or men. The conception 
of man is an ideal conception, because the destiny of man, 
in so far as he is such, is unattainable. Each individual 
has his own particular ideal of man in general ; these ideals 
are different in degree, though not in kind; each tries by 
his own ideal every being whom he recognises as a man. 
By this fundamental impulse each is prompted to seek in 
others a likeness to his own ideal ; he inquires, he observes 
on all sides, and when he finds men below this ideal, he 



31 LMTUH II. 

strives to elevate them to it. In this straggle of mind 
with mind, he always triumphs who is the highest and best 
man; — and thus from the idea, of Society arises that of the 
tion ofih Mid we have thus also discovered the 

ultimate purpose of all Society as such. When it appears 
M if the higher and better man had no inilucnce on tho 
low and uncultivated, we arc partly deceived in our judg- 
ment, since we often expect to find the fruit already ripe, 
before the seed has had time to germinate and unfold; — 
and it may partly arise from this, that the better man 
perhaps stands at too high an elevation above the unculti- 
vated, — that they have too few points of contact with each 
other, and hence cannot sufficiently act upon each other; 
— a state which retards civilization to an incredible ex- 
tent, and the remedy for which we shall point out at the 
proper time. But on the whole, the ultimate triumph of 
the better man is certain : — a calming and consoling 
thought for the friend of humanity and of truth when he 
looks out upon the open war of light with darkness. The 
light shall surely triumph at last ; — we cannot indeed 
predict the time, — but it is already a pledge of victory, of 
near victory, when darkness is compelled to come forth to 
an open encounter. She loves concealment, — she is al- 
ready lost when forced out into the open day. 

Thus far, then, the result of our inquiries shows, that 
man is destined for Society; — among the capacities which, 
according to his vocation as laid down in our former lecture, 
lie is destined to improve and perfect, there is also the social 
capacity. 

This destination of man for Society in the abstract, 
although arising out of the innermost and purest elements 
of human nature, is yet, as a mere impulse, subordinate to 
the highest law of constant internal harmony, or the moral 
law, and by it must be still further defined and brought 
under a strict rule. When we have discovered this rule, 



THE VOCATION OF MAN IN SOCIETY. oo 

we shall have found the vocation of man in Society, which 
is the object of our present inquiry and of all the pre- 
ceding reflections. 

The social impulse is, in the first place, negatively defined 
by the law of absolute harmony; — it must not contradict 
itself. The impulse leads to reciprocal activity, to mutual 
influence, mutual giving and receiving, mutual suffering 
and doing, — not to mere causality — not to mere activity, 
of which others are only the passive objects. The impulse 
requires us to discover free reasonable beings around us, and 
to enter into Society with them ; it does not demand subor- 
dination as in the material world, but co-ordination. If we 
do not allow freedom to the reasonable beings whom we 
seek around us, we take into account merely their theoretical 
use, not their free practical rationality ; we do not enter into 
Society with them, but we rule them as useful animals, and 
so place our social impulse in opposition to itself. But what 
do I say'? — we place our social impulse in opposition to itself? 
No : we rather do not possess this higher impulse at all ; 
humanity is not yet so far cultivated within us ; we ourselves 
still stand on the lowest grade of imperfect humanity, — or 
slavery. We ourselves have not yet attained to a feeling of 
our freedom and self-activity, for then we should necessarily 
desire to see around us similar, — that isfree beings. We 
are slaves ourselves; — and only look around us for slaves. 
Rousseau says — " A man often considers himself the lord of 
others, who is yet more a slave than they." He might 
with still greater justice have said — " He who considers him- 
self the lord of others is himself a slave." Even should he 
not bear the outward badge of servitude, yet he has most 
surely the soul of a slave, and will basely cringe before the 
first stronger man who subdues him. He only is free, who 
would make all around him free likewise, and does really 
make them free, by a certain influence the sources of which 
have never been observed. Under his eye we breathe more 



34 UKTTORI u. 

freely, we fool that nothing lias power to oppress, hinder 
or confine as; we fool an unwonted desire to be and to do 

all things which soli-respect Joes not forbid. 

Man may use irrational things as means for the accom- 
plishment of his purposes, but not rational beings : he may 
not even use these as means for attaining the end of their 
own being ; he may not act upon them as upon dead mat- 
ter or upon the beasts, so as to prosecute his designs with 
them without taking their freedom into account; he may not 
make any reasonable being either virtuous, or wise, or happy 
against his own will. Laying aside the fact that such an at- 
tempt would be utterly fruitless, — that no being can become 
virtuous, or wise, or happy, but by his own labour and exer- 
tion; — laying aside the fact that man cannot do this, — yet 
even if he could, or believed he could, he must not even 
desire to do it; for it is unjust, and by so doing he would 
be placed in opposition to himself. 

The social impulse is also positively defined by the law of 
perfect internal harmony, and thus we arrive at the peculiar 
vocation of man in Society. All the individuals who com- 
pose the human race differ from each other; there is only 
one thing in which they entirely agree ; — that is, their ulti- 
mate end — perfection. Perfection has but one form; it is 
equal to itself: could all men become perfect, could they 
attain their highest and ultimate end, they would all be 
equal to each other, — they would be only one — but one 
single subject. But in Society each strives to make others 
perfect, at least according to his own standard of perfection ; 
to raise them to the ideal of humanity which he has formed. 
Thus the last, highest end of Society is perfect unity and 
unanimity of all its possible members. But since the attain- 
ment of this end supposes the attainment of the destination 
of each individual man — the attainment of absolute per- 
fection; — so it is quite as impossible as the latter, — it is 
unattainable, unless man were to lay aside his humanity 



THE VOCATION OF MAN IN SOCIETY. 35 

and become God. Perfect unity with all the individuals 
of his race is thus indeed the ultimate end, but not the vo- 
cation of man in Society. 

But to approach nearer this end, — constantly to ap- 
proach nearer to it, — this he can and should do. This 
approximation towards perfect unity and unanimity with 
all men may be called co-operation. Thus co-operation 
growing* ever firmer at its centre, and ever wider in its 
circumference, is the true vocation of man in Society: — 
but such a co-operation is only possible by means of ever- 
growing improvement; for it is only in relation to their 
ultimate destination that men are at one, or can become 
united. We may therefore say, that mutual improvement 
— improvement of ourselves by the freely admitted action 
of others upon us, and improvement of others by our re- 
action upon them as upon free beings, — is our vocation in 
Society. 

And in order to fulfil this vocation, and fulfil it always 
more thoroughly, we need a qualification which can only 
be acquired and improved by culture ; and indeed a qualifi- 
cation of a double nature : an ability to give, or to act upon 
others as upon free beings; — and a openness to receive, or 
to derive the greatest advantage from the action of others 
upon us. Of both we shall speak particularly in the pro- 
per place. We must especially strive to acquire the latter, 
when we possess the former in a high degree; — otherwise 
we cease to advance, and consequently retrograde. Seldom 
is any man so perfect, but he may be much improved 
through the agency of any other man, in some perhaps 
apparently unimportant or neglected point of culture. 

I know few more sublime ideas, than the idea of this 
universal inter-action of the whole human race on itself; this 
ceaseless life and activity; this eager emulation to give and 
to receive, — the noblest strife in which man can take a part ; 
this general indentation of countless wheels into each other, 



n m: ir. 

whose common motive-power is freedom; and the beautiful 
harmony which is the result of all. " Whoever bhcra art," 
may each of us say — "whoever thou art, if thou bear the 
form of niiin, thou too art a member of this great com- 
monwealth : — through what countless media soever our 
mutual influence may be transmitted, still by that title, I 
act upon thee, and thou on me; — no one who bears the 
stamp of reason on his front, however rudely impressed, 
exists in vain for me. But I know thee not, — thou know- 
est not me ! — Oh ! so surely as we have a common calling 
to be good, — ever to become better, — so surely — though 
millions of ages may first pass away — (what is time!) — so 
surely shall a period at last arrive when I may receive thee 
too into my sphere of action, — when I may do good to thee, 
and receive good from thee in return; when my heart may 
be united to thine also, by the fairest possible bond, — a 
mutual interchange of free and generous love. 



(37) 



LECTURE III. 



ON THE DISTINCTION OF CLASSES IN SOCIETY. 



The vocation of man as an individual, as well as the 
vocation of man in society, is now before you. The Scholar 
is only invested with his distinctive character when con- 
sidered as a member of society. We may therefore pro- 
ceed to the inquiry, — What is the peculiar vocation of the 
Scholar in society % But the Scholar is not merely a mem- 
ber of society; he is also a member of a particular class 
in society : at least it is customary to speak of the Scholar- 
class, — with what propriety or impropriety will appear in 
due time. 

Our chief inquiry — What is the vocation of the Scholar ? 
— thus pre-supposes the solution of a third and very 
important question, besides those two which we have already 
answered; — this, namely, — "Whence arises the difference of 
classes in society? — or, What is the source of the inequality 
existing among men % 

It will be readily understood without previous explana- 
tion, that this word class does not mean anything which has 
come to pass fortuitously and without our aid, but some- 
thing determined and arranged by free choice according 
to a concerted purpose. For an inequality which occurs 
fortuitously and without our aid, i. e. for physical inequality, 
Nature is accountable; but inequality of classes seems to 
be a moral inequality, with respect to which, therefore, the 

D 



38 LBOTUBE ill. 

question naturally arises, — By what right do different 
class< a exist I 

Attempts have often been made to answer this question; 
and proceeding merely on the grounds of experience, the nu- 
merous purposes which are accomplished by such a division 
and the many advantages which are gained by it, have been 
as rhapsodically enumerated as they arc eagerly laid hold 
ofj but by such means any other question may sooner be 
answered than the one we have proposed. The advantage 
of a certain disposition of things does not prove its justice; 
and we did not propose the historical question, — What 
purpose had man in this arrangement? — but the moral 
question, — whether it was lawful for him to bring it about, 
whatever purpose he might have had in view by so 
doing. The question must be answered on the principles 
of Reason, pure as well as practical; and such an answer 
has, so far as I know, never yet been even attempted. To 
prepare for it, I must lay down a few general scientific 
principles. 

All the laws of Reason are founded in our spiritual 
being; but they only attain to an empirical consciousness 
by an experience to which they are applicable; and the 
more frequently such application takes place, the more 
intimately do they become interwoven with this conscious- 
It is thus with all the laws of Reason; — it is thus 
especially with the practical, which do not, like the theo- 
retical, terminate in a mere act of judgment, but proceed 
to an activity without us, and announce themselves to 
consciousness under the form of impulses. The foundation 
of all impulses lies in our own being: — but not more than 
the foundation. Every impulse must be awakened by 
experience if it is to arrive at consciousness, and must be 
developed by numerous experiences of the same kind, if it 
is to become a desire, and its appropriate gratification a 
want of man. Experience, however, does not depend upon 



ON THE DISTINCTION OF CLASSES IN SOCIETY. 39 

ourselves, and therefore neither does the awakening nor 
the development of our impulses. 

The independent Non-Eyo as the foundation of experi- 
ence, or Nature — is manifold; no one part of it is perfectly 
the same as another; — this principle is maintained and 
even strictly proved in the Kantean philosophy. It follows 
from this, that its action on the human mind is of a very 
varied character, and developes the capacities and talents 
of men nowhere in the same manner. By these different 
ways in which Nature acts upon man, are individuals, and 
what we call their peculiar, empirical, individual character, 
determined; — and in this respect we may say that no 
individual is perfectly like another in his awakened and 
developed" capacities. Hence arises a physical inequality, 
to which we not only have not contributed, but which 
we even cannot remove by our freedom; for before we can, 
through freedom, resist the influence of Nature upon us, 
we must first have arrived at the consciousness and use of 
this freedom; but we cannot arrive thereat except by that 
awakening and unfolding of our impulses which does not 
depend upon ourselves. 

But the highest law of man and of all reasonable beings, 
— the law of perfect internal harmony — of absolute identity, 
in so far as this law becomes positive and material by 
means of special individual application, demands that all 
the faculties of the individual shall be uniformly developed — 
all his capacities cultivated to the highest possible perfec- 
tion; — a demand, the object of which cannot be realized 
by the mere law itself; because the fulfilment of the law, 
according to what we have said, does not depend upon the 
law itself; nor upon our will, which is determinable by the 
law; but upon the free action of Nature. 

If we apply this law to society, — if we make the suppo- 
sition that there are many reasonable beings in existence, 
— then the demand that all the faculties of the individual 



40 PUBH in. 

should be uniformly cultivated, includes also the demand 
that all reasonable beings should ho cultivated uniformly 
with each other. If the Faculties of all are essentially the 

same, — as they are, since they are all founded upon pure 
Reason : — if they are all to he cultivated after a similar 
fashion, which is what the law requires; — then the result 
of such a cull i vat ion must be similar capacities in every 
respect equal to each other: — and thus by another way we 
arrive at the ultimate end of all society, as declared in our 
former lecture, — the perfect equality of all its members. 

We have already shown in our last lecture that the mere 
law cannot, of itself, realize the object of this demand, any 
more than it can realize that of the demand on which our 
present lecture is founded. But Free-Will can and should 
strive constantly to approach nearer to this ultimate end. 

And here the activity of the social impulse comes into 
play, which also proceeds upon this same purpose, and 
is the means of the requisite continual approximation to 
it. The social impulse, or the impulse towards mutual 
cooperation with free reasonable beings as such, includes 
the two following impulses: — the communicative impulse; 
that is, the impulse to impart to others that form of cul- 
ture which we ourselves possess most completely, — to make 
others, as far as possible, like ourselves, like the better self 
within us: — and the receptive impulse; that is, the impulse 
to receive from others that form of culture which they 
most completely, — and in which we are deficient. 
Thus the defect of Nature in us, is remedied by Ecason and 
lorn; the partial culture which Nature has given to 
the individual, becomes the property of the whole race; 
and the race in turn b- II its culture upon him; — it 

him all the culture which is possible under the deter- 
mining conditions of Nature, if we suppose that all the 
individuals who are possible under these conditions do 
actually exist. Nature cultivates each individual only 



ON THE DISTINCTION OF CLASSES IN SOCIETY. 41 

in part; but she bestows culture at every point where 
encounters reasonable beings. Reason unites these points; 
presents to Nature a firmly compacted and extended front, 
and compels her to cultivate the Race at least in all its 
particular capacities, since she will not bestow that culture 
upon the Individual. Reason has already, by the social 
impulse, provided for the equal distribution of the culture 
thus acquired among the individual members of society, 
and will provide for it still further; for the sway of Nature 
does not extend here. 

Reason will take care that each individual receive 
through the hands of society, the whole and complete cul- 
tivation which he cannot obtain immediately from Nature. 
Society will gather together the possessions of every indi- 
vidual member into a common fund for the free use of all, 
and thus multiply them by the number of those who share 
their advantages ; the deficiencies of each individual will be 
borne by the community, and will thus be reduced to an 
infinitely small quantity: — or, to express this in another 
form more generally applicable, — the aim of all culture of 
human capacity, is to subject Nature (as I have defined 
this expression) to Reason ; to place Experience, in so far as 
it is not dependent on the laws of our perceptive faculties, 
in harmony with our necessary practical ideas of Reason. 
Thus Reason stands in continual strife with Nature. This 
warfare can never come to an end, unless we were to 
become gods ; but the influence of Nature can and should 
be gradually weakened, — the dominion of Reason constantly 
made more powerful; — so that the latter shall gain victory 
after victory over the former. One individual may perhaps 
struggle successfully against Nature at his own particular 
point of contact with her, while at all other points he may 
be completely subject to her sway. But now society is com- 
bined like one man : what the individual could not accom- 
plish by himself, all are enabled to perform by the combined 

d2 



PURB HI. 

the community. Bach indeed strive- singly, but 
the enfeeblement of Nature which is the result of the 
common struggle, and the partial triumph which each 

gains ever her in his own department, come to the aid of 
all. Thus even from bhe physical inequality of individuals 

3 a new security for the bond which unites them all in 
one body; the pressure of individual wants and the still 

ber impulse to supply the wants of others, bind them 
mere closely together j and Nature has strengthened the 
power of Reason, even while she attempted to weaken it. 

Thus far everything proceeds in its natural order: We 
have found different characters, various in the kind and 
degree of their cultivation; but we have as yet no different 
\ for we have not yet pointed out any special deter- 
mination of free activity, — any voluntary selection of a par- 
ticular kind of culture. I say, we have not yet been able 
to produce any special determination of free activity; — 
but let not this be erroneously or partially understood. 
The social impulse, considered generally, addresses itself 
only to freedom; it merely instigates, — it does not compel. 
We may oppose, and even subdue it; — we may, through 
misanthropic selfishness, separate ourselves from our fellow- 
men, and refuse to receive anything at the hands of society, 
that we may not have to render back anything in return; 
— we may, from rude animalism, iorget the freedom of 
society, and look upon it only as something subject to our 
will, because we have no higher idea of ourselves than as 
subjects of the power of Nature. But this is not the ques- 
tion here. On the supposition that man only obeys the 
social impulse generally, it is necessary that under its 
guidance ho- should impart the advantages which he possesses 
to those who have need of them, and receive those of which 
he himself stands in need from those who possess them. 
And for this purpose there is no need of any particular 
determination or modification of the social impulse by a 



ON TI1E DISTINCTION OF CLASSES IN SOCIETY. \ ■'> 

new act of Freedom. — which 18 all that I meant to af- 
firm. 

The characteristic distinction is this: — Under the con- 
ditions now laid down, 1 as an individual give myself up 
to nature for the one-sided cultivation of some particular 
capacity, because / must do so; I have no choice in the 
matter, but blindly follow her leading. I take all that she 
gives me, but I cannot take that which she does not give ; 
I neglect no opportunity of cultivating myself as completely 
as I can; but I do not create such opportunity, because I 
cannot create it. If, on the contrary, I choose a class, — a 
class being understood to be something chosen by free will, 
as it should be according to the common use of language ; 
if I choose a class, I must indeed have first become subject 
to Nature before it was possible for me to choose; for to 
that end different impulses must be awakened within me, 
different capacities elevated into consciousness; but i?v*the 
choice itself I determine henceforward to pay no respect to 
certain motives which Nature may perchance offer to me, 
in order that I may apply all my powers and all the gifts 
of Nature to the exclusive development of one or more par- 
ticular capacities; and by the particular capacity to whose 
cultivation I thus devote myself by free choice, will my class 
or condition in society be determined. 

The question arises, — Ought I to choose a particular 
class? or if the demand be not imperative, — Dare I devote 
myself to a particular class, — that is, to a partial culture? 
If I ought, — if it be absolute duty, then it must be possible 
to educe from the highest laws of Reason an impulse 
directed towards the selection of a class, as we may educe 
from these laws the impulse towards society in general. 
If I only may do this, then it will not be possible to educe 
such an impulse from the laws of Eeason, but only a 
permission; — and for the determination of the will to the 
actual choice thus permitted by Reason, some empirical 



H 



LECTURE III. 



data must be assigned, by moans of which not a law, but 
only a rule of prudence, may be laid down. How this 

mat tor stands will bo soon upon further inquiry. 

The law says, — " Cultivate all thy faculties completely 
and uniformly, so far as thou canst;" — but it does not 
determine whether I shall exercise them directly upon 
Nature, or indirectly through intercourse with my fellow- 
men. On this point the choice is thus left entirely to my 
own prudence. The law says, — " Subdue Nature to thy 
purposes ;" — but it does not say that if I should find Nature 
already sufficiently adapted to certain of my purposes by 
other men, I should nevertheless myself adapt it to all the 
possible purposes of humanity. Hence the law does not 
forbid me to choose a particular class; but neither does it 
enjoin me to do so, for precisely the same reason which 
prevents the prohibition. I am now in the field of free- 
wiH ; / may choose a class, and I must now look out for 
quite other grounds of determiaation than those which are 
derived immediately from Reason, on which to resolve the 
question, — not " What class shall I choose?" — (of this we 
shall speak at another time) — but, " Shall I choose any class 
at all, or shall I not?" 

As things are at present, man is born in society. He 
finds Nature no longer rude, but already prepared in many 
respects for his purposes. He finds a multitude of men 
employed in its different departments, cultivating it on 
every side for the use of rational beings. He finds much 
already done which otherwise he would have had to do for 
himself. He might perhaps enjoy a very pleasant exist- 
ence without ever applying his own powers immediately 
to Nature; lie might even attain a kind of perfection by 
the enjoyment of what society has already accomplished, 
and in particular of what it has done for its own cultiva- 
tion, liut this may not be ; — he must at least endeavour 
to repay his debt to society ; he must take his place among 



ON THE DISTINCTION OF GLASSES IN SOCIETY. 45 

men ; he must at least strive to forward in some respect 
the perfection of the race which has done so much for 
him. 

And to that end two ways present themselves : either he 
may determine to cultivate Nature on all sides ; — and, in 
this case, he would perhaps require to apply his whole life, 
or many lives if he had them, even to acquire a knowledge 
of what has been already done before him by others, and of 
what remains to do; and thus his life would be lost to the 
human race, — not indeed from evil intent, but from lack of 
wisdom : — or he may take up some particular department 
of Nature, with the previous history of which he is perhaps 
best acquainted, and for the cultivation of which he is best 
adapted by natural capacity and social training, and devote 
himself exclusively to that. In the latter case, he leaves his 
own culture in its other departments to Society; whose cul- 
ture in that department which he has chosen for himself is 
the sole object of his resolves, his labours, his desires ; — and 
thus he has selected a class, and his doing so is perfectly 
legitimate. But still this act of freedom is, like all others, 
subject to the universal moral law, in so far as that law is 
the rule of our actions; or to the categorical imperative, 
which I may thus express: — " Never permit the deter- 
minations of thy Will to be at variance with thyself;" — 
a law which, as expressed in this formula, may be fulfilled 
by every one, since the determinations of our will do not 
depend upon Nature, but only on ourselves. 

The choice of a class is a free choice; therefore no man 
whatever ought to be compelled to any particular class, nor 
to be shut out from any. Every individual action, as well as 
every general arrangement which proceeds on such compul- 
sion, is unjust. It is univise to force a man into one class, 
or to exclude him from another; because no man can have 
a perfect knowledge of the peculiar capacities of another, 
and because a member is often lost to society altogether, in 



!VUK III. 

consequence of being thrust into an hnproper place. Hut 
laying this out of new, Buch a. course is \mjust in itself, 

for it sets our Joed itself in opposition to our practical 
conception of it. We wish to give society a member, and 

we make a tool ; we wish to liave a free fellow- work man in 
the great business of life, and we create an enslaved and 
passive instrumeni ; we destroy the man within him, so far 
as we can do so by our arrangements, and are guilty of an 
injury both to him and to society. 

We make choice of a particular class, — we select one 
particular talent for more extended cultivation, — only 
that we may thereby be enabled to render bach to society 
that which it has done for us; — and tlvus each of us is 
bound to make use of our culture for the advantage of 
society. Xo one lias a right to labour only for his own 
enjoyment, to shut himself up from his fellow-men and 
make his culture useless to them; for it is only by the 
labour of society that he has been placed in a position 
wherein he could acquire that culture; it is in a certain 
sense a product — a property of society; and he robs so- 
ciety of a property which belongs to it if he does not apply 
his culture to its use. It is the duty of every one, not only 
to endeavour to make himself useful to society generally; 
but also to direct all his efforts, according to the best know- 
ledge which he possesses, towards the ultimate object of 
society, — towards the ever-increasing ennoblement of the 
human race; — that is, to set it more and more at freedom 
from the bondage of Nature, constantly to increase its in- 
dependence and spontaneous activity; — and thus, from the 
new inequality of classes a new equality arises — a uniform 
progress of culture in all individual men. 

i do not say that human life is at anytime such as I have 
now depicted it; but it .should be so, according to our prac- 
tical ideas of society and of the different classes it contains; 
and we may and ought to labour that it may become so in 



ON THE DISTINCTION OF CLASSES IN SOCIETY. 47 

reality. How powerfully the Scholar in particular may con- 
tribute to this end, and how many means for its accomplish- 
ment lie at his disposal, we shall see at the proper time. 

When we contemplate the idea now unfolded, even with- 
out reference to ourselves, we see around us a community 
in which no one can labour for himself without at the same 
time labouring for his fellow-men, or can labour for others 
without also labouring for himself; where the success of 
one member is the success of all, and the loss of one a loss 
to all : a picture which, by the harmony it reveals in the 
manifold diversity of being, introduces a cordial feeling of 
satisfaction to the mind, and powerfully raises the soul 
above the things of time. 

But the interest is heightened when we turn our thoughts 
to ourselves, and contemplate ourselves as members of this 
great spiritual community. The feeling of our dignity and 
our power is increased when we say, — what each of us may 
say, — ' My existence is not in vain and aimless; I am a ne- 
cessary link in the great chain of being which reaches from 
the awakening of the first man to perfect consciousness of 
his existence, onward through eternity ; all the great and 
wise and noble that have ever appeared among men, — those 
benefactors of the human race whose names I find recorded 
in the world's history, and the many others whose benefits 
have outlived their names, — all have laboured for me; I 
have entered into their labours; on this earth where they 
dwelt I follow their footsteps, which scattered blessings as 
they went. I may, as soon as I will, assume the sublime 
task which they have resigned, of making our common bro- 
therhood ever wiser and happier; I may continue to build 
where they had to cease their labours ; I may bring nearer to 
its completion the glorious temple which they had to leave 
unfinished.' 

c But' — some one may say — ( I too, like them, must rest 
from my labours.' Oh! this is the sublimest thought of 



iThi: in. 
all! If 1 assume this noble (ask, 1 ran never reach its endj 

and so surely as it is my vocation to assume it, I can never 
to act) ami hence can never cease to he. That which 
men call Death cannot interrupt my activity; for my work 
must go on to its completion, and it cannot be completed 
in Time; — hence my existence is limited by no Time, and 
1 am Eternal: — with the assumption of this great task, I 
have also laid hold of Eternity. I raise my head boldly 
towards the threatening' rock, the raging' flood, or the fiery 
tempest, and say — ' I am Eternal, and I defy your might! 
Break all upon me! — and thou Earth, and thou Heaven, 
mingle in the wild tumult! — and all ye elements, foam 
and fret yourselves, and crush in your conflict the last atom 
of the body which I call mine! — My Will, secure in its 
own firm purpose, shall soar undisturbed and bold over 
the wreck of the universe: — for I have entered upon my 
vocation, and it is more enduring than ye are : it is Eternal, 
and I am Eternal, like it.' 



(49) 



LECTURE IV. 



THE VOCATION OF THE SCHOLAR. 



I have to-day to speak of the Vocation of the Scholar. 

I stand in a peculiar relation to this subject. All, or 
most of you, have chosen knowledge as the business of your 
lives; and I have made the same choice: — all of you, I pre- 
sume, apply your whole energies, so that you may honour- 
ably fill the station to which you aspire; and I too have 
done, and do the like. I have to speak as a Scholar, before 
future Scholars, of the Scholar's Vocation. I must examine 
the subject to its foundation; exhaust it, if I can; hold 
back nothing in my representation of the truth. And if I 
discover for the Scholar a vocation most honourable, most 
lofty, and distinguished above that of all other classes of 
men, how is it possible for me to lay it before you without 
exceeding the limits of modest expression, — without seeming 
to undervalue other vocations, — without being apparently 
blinded by self-conceit ? But I speak as a philosopher, 
whose duty it is strictly to define all his ideas. I cannot ex- 
clude this idea from the system of which it is a necessary part. 
I dare not keep back any part of the truth which I recog- 
nise. It still remains true ; and modesty itself is subordinate 
to it: — it is a false modesty which is violated by truth. 
Let us then consider our subject in the first place with in- 
difference, as if it had no relation to ourselves : — let us treat 

£ 



u i ruBi iv. 

it as an idea belonging to a world quite foreign to our own. 
Lei us look with the greater strictness bo our arguments. 
Let us never forget, what I hope 1 have already impressed 
upon you with some degree of success, — that every station in 
life is necessary; that each deserves our respect; that not 
the station itself, but the worthy fulfilment of its duties, 
does honour to a man; and that we only merit esteem in so 
tar as we approach nearest to the perfect performance of 
the duties assigned to us in the order of things; — that 
therefore the Scholar has reason to be of all others the most 
modest, because an aim is set before him of which he con- 
tinually falls far short, — because he has a most elevated ideal 
to reach, which commonly he approaches only at the greatest 
distance. 

There are many tendencies and powers in man, and it is 
the vocation of each individual to cultivate all his powers, 
so far as he is able to do so. Among others is the social 
impulse; which offers him a new and peculiar form of culti- 
vation, — that for society, — and affords an unusual facility 
for culture in general. There is nothing prescribed to man 
on this subject; — whether he shall cultivate all his faculties 
as a whole, unaided and by nature alone ; or mediately 
through society. The first is difficult, and nowise advances 
society; — hence in the social state each individual right- 
fully selects his own part of the common cultivation, leaves 
the rest to his fellows, and expects that they will allow him 
to share the benefits of their culture, as he permits them 
to participate in the advantages of his own: — and this is 
origin and ground of the distinction of classes in 

iety. 

Such are the results arrived at in our previous discourses. 

For an arrangement of these different classes according to 

the ideas of Pure Reason, which is quite possible, a founda- 

K>0 must he sought in a complete enumeration of all the 

1 capacities and wants of man; — not, however, of his 



THE VOCATION OF THE SCHOLAR. 51 

merely artificial wants. A particular class in society may 
be devoted to the cultivation of each faculty, or what is the 
same thing, to the satisfaction of each want founded on an 
original impulse in human nature. We reserve this inquiry 
for another occasion, that we may now enter upon one which 
lies nearer to us. 

If a question should arise as to the perfection or imper- 
fection of a state of society arranged on the principles 
which we have already propounded, — (and every society 
does so arrange itself by the natural tendencies of mam 
without foreign guidance, as was shown in our inquiry into 
the origin of society), — if, I say, such a question should arise, 
the answer to it will presuppose the solution of the following 
query : — Is the development and satisfaction of all the 
wants of man, and indeed the harmonious development and 
satisfaction of them all, provided for in the given state of 
society? Is tliis provided for, — then the society, as a 
society, is perfect; — that is, not that it has attained its 
final purpose, which as we have previously shown is 
impossible; but that it is so arranged that it must of 
necessity continually approximate thereto: — is this not 
provided for, — then society may indeed by some happy 
chance be impelled forward in the way of cultivation; but 
that cannot be calculated on with certainty, for it may 
with as much probability be carried by some unlucky oc- 
currence in the opposite direction. 

A provision for the harmonious development of all the 
faculties of man presupposes an acquaintance with them 
all, — a knowledge of all his tendencies and wants, — a com- 
plete survey of his whole being. But this perfect Know- 
ledge of human nature is itself founded on a faculty which 
must be developed; for there is certainly an impulse in 
man to hioiv, and particularly to know that which affects 
himself. The development of this faculty, however, de- 
mands all the time and energy of a man: — if there be anv 



52 LBOTUBfl iv. 

want common to mankind which urgently requires that a 
particular class be sel aside for its satisfaction, it is this. 

The mere Knowledge, however, of the faculties and wants 
of man. without an acquaintance with the means of develop- 
in-- and satisfying them, would be not only a most sorrow- 
ful and discouraging', but also a vain and perfectly useless 
acquirement. He acts a most unfriendly part towards me, 
who points out to me my defects, without at the same time 
showing me the means of supplying them; who raises me 
to the feeling of my wants, without enabling me to satisfy 
them. Would that he had rather left me in brutish ignor- 
ance ! In short, this would not be such Knowledge as society 
requires, and for which she must have a particular class of 
men to whom the possession of it may be committed ; for 
this Knowledge does not aim at the perfection of the spe- 
cies, and through that perfection at its harmonious com- 
bination, as it ought to do: hence to this Knowledge of 
wants there must be added a Knowledge of the means by 
which they may be satisfied; — and this knowledge properly 
devolves upon the same class, because the one cannot be 
complete, and still less can it be active and living, without 
the other. Knowledge of the first kind is founded on the 
principles of Pure Reason, and is philosophical; — that of the 
second, partly on Experience, and is in so far philosophico- 
histwical; — not merely historical, fori must connect the 
purposes which can only be recognised philosophically, with 
their appropriate objects revealed in Experience, in order 
to be able to recognise the latter as the means to the at- 
tainment of the former. 

if, however, this Knowledge is to become useful to so- 
. it is not sufficient to ascertain what faculties belong 
essentially to man, and through what means they may be 
developed; — such Knowledge would still remain quite un- 
productive. It must proceed a step farther, in order to 
secure the wished-for benefits : — we must also know on 



THE VOCATION OF THE SCHOLAR. 

what particular grade of cultivation the society to which 
we belong stands at a particular point of time; — to what 
particular stage it has next to ascend, and what are the 
means at its command for that purpose. Now on the 
grounds of Reason alone ; — on the supposition of Experience 
in the abstract, but prior to all actual Experience, — we can 
calculate the direction which human progress must take, 
we can declare with probability the particular steps by 
which it must pass to the attainment of a definite stage of 
cultivation; — but to declare the particular step on which 
it actually stands at a given point of time, is impossible 
for Reason alone; for this, Experience must be questioned, 
the events of the past must be examined, but with an eye 
purified by philosophy; — we must look around us, and 
consider our contemporaries. This last part of the Know- 
ledge needful to society is thus purely historical. 

The three branches of Knowledge which we have pointed 
out, when combined together — (and without such union 
they will be found of but little avail) — constitute what is 
called Learning, or at least what alone should be so called ; 
— and he who devotes his life to the acquisition of this 
Knowledge is a Scholar. 

But every individual must not attempt to grasp the whole 
extent of human Learning in all these three forms of Know- 
ledge; — that would be impossible for most men; and therefore 
the striving after it would be fruitless, and the whole life of a 
member, who might have been of much value to society, would 
disappear without society reaping the slightest advantage 
from it. Each individual may mark out for himself a par- 
ticular portion of this territory ; but each should cultivate his 
part according to all the three views, — 2jhilosophically, philo- 
sophico-historically, and historically. And I now declare 
before-hand, (what I shall further illustrate at another time), 
that you may in the meantime at least receive it on my testi- 
mony, — that the study of a profound philosophy does not 

e 2 



i r< ttki: iv. 

render the acquisition of empirical Knowledge a superfluous 
labour, if that knowledge be only well grounded; but that it 
rattier proves the necessity of such Knowledge in the most 

convincing manner. The common purpose of these different 
branches of Knowledge has already been pointed out; — that 
by their means provision may be made for the uniform but 
constantly progressive development of all the faculties of 
man : — and hence arises the true vocation of the Scholar; — 
>.<t widely extended survey of the actual advancement 
of tht human race in general, and the steadfast promotion 
of that advancement. I must impose some restraint upon 
myself, that I may not allow my feelings to expatiate 
upon the elevated idea which is now brought before you; — 
the path of rigid inquiry is not yet ended. Yet I must 
remark, in passing, what it really is which they would do 
who should seek to check the free progress of Knowledge. 
I say would do; for how can I know whether such persons 
really exist or not? Upon the progress of Knowledge the 
whole progress of the human race is immediately depen- 
dent : he who retards that, hinders this also. And he 
who hinders this, — what character does he assume towards 
his age and posterity] Louder than with a thousand voices, 
by his actions he proclaims into the deafened ear of the 
world present and to come — l As long as I live at least, 
the men around me shall not become wiser or better; — for 
in their progress, I too, notwithstanding all my efforts to 
the contrary, would be dragged forward in some direction, 
— and this 1 detest; — I will not become more enlightened, 
— I will not become nobler. Darkness and perversion are 
my elements, and I will summon all my powers together 

that I may not be dislodged from them.' Humanity 

may endure the loss of everything: all its possessions may 
be torn a way without infringing its true dignity; — all 
but the possibility of improvement. Coldly and craftily, as 
the enemy of mankind pictured to us in the Bible, these 



THE VOCATION OF THE SCHOLAR. <~)~> 

foes of man have calculated and devised their schemes ; and 
explored the holiest depths to discover a point at which 
to assail humanity, so that they might crush it in the bud ; 
and they have found it. Humanity turns indignantly from 

the picture. We return to our investigation. 

Knowledge is itself a branch of human culture; — that 
branch must itself be farther advanced, if all the faculties 
of man are to be continuously developed ; hence it is the 
duty of the Scholar, as of every man who has chosen a par- 
ticular condition of life, to strive for the advancement of 
Knowledge, and chiefly of his own peculiar department of 
Knowledge; — it is his duty as it is the duty of every man 
in his own department; — yes, and it is much more his duty. 
It is for him to watch over and promote the advancement 
of other departments;' — and shall he himself not advance? 
Upon his progress, the progress of all other departments 
of human culture is dependent : he should always be in 
advance to open the way for others, to explore their future 
path, and to lead them forward upon it ; — and shall he 
remain behind? From that moment he would cease to be 
what he ought to be ; and being nothing else, would then 
be — nothing. I do not say that every Scholar must actually 
extend the domain of Knowledge, — that may not be within 
his power; — but I do say that he must strive to extend it; 
— that he must not rest, that he must not think his duty 
sufficiently performed, until he has extended it. So long as 
he lives he may yet accomplish this. Does death overtake 
him before he has attained his purpose ? — then he is re- 
leased from his duties in this world of appearances, and his 
earnest endeavour will be accounted to him for the deed. If 
the following maxim be applicable to all men, it is more 
especially applicable to the Scholar : — that he forget what he 
has done as soon as it is accomplished, and constantly direct 
his whole thoughts upon what he has yet to do. He has 
advanced but little way indeed, whose field of exertion does 
not extend its boundaries at every step he takes in it. 



LECTURE iv. 

The Scholar is destined in i peculiar manner for society: 
his dan, more than any other, exists only through society 
and for society j — it is thus his peculiar duty to cultivate 
the social talents, — an openness to receive, and a readiness 
to communicate Knowledge, — in the first place and in 
the highest degree. Receptivity must already be developed 
in him, if he has thoroughly mastered the requisite empiri- 
cal sciences, lie must be thoroughly conversant with the 
labours of those who have gone before him in his own 
department, and this Knowledge he cannot have acquired 
otherwise than by instruction, either oral or literary; — he 
cannot have arrived at it by mere reflection on the prin- 
ciples of Reason. But he should at all times maintain this 
receptivity by means of new acquirements, and endeavour 
to preserve himself from a growing insensibility to foreign 
opinions and modes of thought, which is so common even 
among the most independent thinkers; — for no one is so 
well-informed but he may still continue to learn, and may 
have something very necessary yet to learn ; — and it is 
seldom that any one , is so ignorant that he cannot teach 
something to the most learned, which the latter did not 
know before. Readiness of communication is always needed 
by the Scholar, for he possesses his Knowledge not for 
himself, but for society. This he must practise from his 
youth, and keep in constant activity, — through what means 
we shall inquire at the proper time. 

The Knowledge which he has acquired for society he 
must now actually apply to the uses of society; — he must 
rouse men to the feeling of their true wants, and make 
them acquainted with the means of satisfying these. Not 
that he should enter with them into the deep inquiries 
which he himself has been obliged to undertake, in order 
to find some certain and secure foundation of truth: that 
would be an attempt to make all men Scholars like himself, 
which is impossible, and opposed to the purposes of life; — 



THE VOCATION OF THE SCHOLAR. i)l 

the other forms of human activity must also be prosecuted, 
and to that end there are other classes of men; if they 
devoted their time to learned inquiries, the Scholars them- 
selves would soon cease to be Scholars. How then can 
he spread abroad his knowledge, and how ought he to do so? 
Society could not subsist without trust in the honesty and 
skill of others; — this confidence is deeply impressed upon our 
hearts, and by a peculiar favour of Nature we never possess 
it in a higher degree than when we most need the honesty 
and skill of others. He may securely reckon upon this trust 
in his honesty and skill, as soon as he has earned it as he 
ought. Further, — there is in all men a feeling of truth, which 
indeed is not sufficient in itself, but must be developed, 
proved, and purified; — and to do this is the task of the 
Scholar. This feeling is not sufficient in itself to lead 
the unlearned to all the truth of which they stand in need ; 
but when it has not become artificially falsified (which 
indeed is often the work of some who call themselves 
Scholars) it is always sufficient to enable them, even with- 
out deep argument, to recognise truth when another leads 
them to her presence. On this intuitive feeling of truth 
the Scholar too may rely. — Thus, so far as we have yet 
unfolded the idea of his vocation, the Scholar is, by virtue 
of it, the Teacher of the human race. 

But he has not only to make men generally acquainted 
with their wants, and with the means of satisfying these 
wants; he has likewise, in particular, at all times and in 
alFplaces, to teach them the wants arising out of the special 
condition in which they stand, and to lead them to the 
appropriate means of reaching the peculiar objects which 
they are there called upon to attain. He sees not merely 
the present, — he sees also the future; he sees not merely 
the point which humanity now occupies, but also that to 
which it must next advance if it remain true to its final end, 
and do not wander or turn back from its legitimate path. 



:TKK IV. 

He cannot wish to hurry forward humanity at once to the 
point which perhaps beams brightly before his own view; — 
the road cannot be avoided or overleaped; — he must only 
take care that it does not stand still, and that it docs not 
turn back. In this respect the Scholar is the Guide of the 
human race. 

1 remark here expressly, that in this as in all his other 
avocations, the Scholar stands under the rule of the moral 
law, — of the requisite harmony of his own being. He acts 
upon society; — it is founded on the idea of freedom : it 
and every member of it is free; — and he dares not approach 
it otherwise than by moral means. The Scholar will never 
be tempted to bring* men to the adoption of his convictions 
by coercion or the use of physical force : — in the present 
age it ought to be unnecessary to throw away a single word 
upon this folly: — neither will he deceive them. Setting 
aside the fact that he would thereby offend against himself, 
and that the duties of the man are in every case higher 
than those of the Scholar : — he would also thereby offend 
against society. Each individual in society should act from 
his own free choice, from his own mature and settled con- 
viction ; — he should be able to look upon himself as a joint 
object of all his actions, and be regarded as such by all his 
fellow-men. He who is deceived, is used only as a means 
by which another may attain his purpose. 

The ultimate purpose of each individual man, as well as 
of all society, and consequently of all the labours of the 
Scholar in society, is the moral elevation of all men. It is 
the duty of the Scholar to have this final object constantly 
in view, — never to lose sight of it in all that he does in 
society. Hut no one can successfully labour for the moral 
improvement of his species who is not himself a good man. 
We do not teach by words alone, — we also teach much more 
impressively by example; and every one who lives in society 
owes it a good example, because the power of example has 



THE VOCATION OF THE SCHOLAR. 09 

its origin in the social relation. How much more is this 
due from the Scholar, who should be before all others in 
every branch of human culture ! If he be behind in the first 
and highest of them all, that to which all the others tend, 
— how can he be the pattern which he ought to be, and 
how can he believe that others will follow his teachings, 
which he himself contradicts before all men in every action 
of his life ? The words which the founder of the Christian 
Religion addressed to his disciples apply with peculiar force 
to the Scholar, — "Ye are the salt of the earth; if the salt 
hath lost its savour, wherewith shall it be salted?" — if the 
chosen among men be depraved, where shall we seek for 
moral good ? Thus, in this last respect, the Scholar should 
be morally the best man of his age; — he should exhibit in 
himself the highest grade of moral culture then possible. 

This is our common vocation, — this our common destiny. 
A happy destiny it is, which calls upon you to do that, as 
your own peculiar occupation, which all men must do by 
reason of their common destiny as men ; to employ all your 
time and powers upon that alone, for which other men must 
hoard up time and power with wise parsimony; to have for 
your employment, your business, the sole e very-day labour 
of your life, what only comes to others as sweet refreshment 
after toil ! It is an invigorating, soul-elevating thought 
which each one among you, who is worthy of his calling, may 
entertain, — ' To me also, for my part, is entrusted the 
culture of my own and following ages; from my labours 
will proceed the course of future generations, — the history 
of nations who are yet to be. To this am I called, to bear 
witness to the Truth ; my life, my fortunes are of little 
moment, — the results of my life are of infinite moment. 
I am a Priest of Truth ; I am in her pay ; I have bound 
myself to do all things, to venture all things, to suffer all 
things for her. If I should be persecuted and hated for her 
sake, if I should even meet death in her service, what won- 



i.;vn ki: iv. 

derful thing is it I shall have done, — what but that wliic-b 

1 clearly ought to do I ' 

1 know how much 1 hare now said; — I know too, that 
an effeminate and nerveless generation will tolerate neither 
these feelings, nor the expression of them; — that with a 
timorous voice which betrays its inward shame, it stigma- 
tizes as extravagance everything which is above its reach; 
— that it turns away its eyes with agony from a picture in 
which it beholds nothing but its own enervation and dis- 
grace ; — that everything vigorous and elevating is to it, 
as every touch is to one lame in all his limbs: — I know 
all this; — but I know too where I speak. I speak before 
young men who are at present secured by their youth 
against this utter enervation; and along with a manly 
morality, and by means of it, I would also deeply impress 
such feelings on their souls, as may preserve them for the 
future also from such effeminacy. I avow it frankly, that 
from the point on which Providence has placed me, I too 
would willingly contribute something, to extend in every 
direction as far as my native language can reach, and fur- 
ther if possible, a more manly tone of thought, a stronger 
sense of elevation and dignity, a more ardent zeal to fulfil 
our destiny at every hazard; — so that when you shall have 
left this place and are scattered abroad in all directions, I 
may one day know in you, wherever you may dwell, men 
whose chosen friend is Truth, — who adhere to her in life and 
in death, — who receive her when she is cast out by all the 
world, — who take her openly under their protection when 
she Lb traduced and calumniated, — who for her sake will 
joyfully bear the cunningly concealed enmity of the great, 
the dull sneer of the coxcomb, and the compassionating shrug 
of the fool. With this view I have now spoken ; — and 
in everything which I may address to you in future, I shal 
have the same ultimate design. 



(01) 



LECTURE V. 



EXAMINATION OF ROUSSEAU'S DOCTRINES CONCERNING 

THE INFLUENCE OF ART AND SCIENCE 

ON THE WELL-BEING OF MAN. 



The combating of error is of no important advantage in 
the discovery of truth. If truth be once derived by just 
deduction from its essential principles, everything opposed 
to it must necessarily, and without express refutation, be 
false ; and if the whole path, which must be traversed in 
order to arrive at certain knowledge, lie clear before our 
view, we can at the same time easily observe the by-ways 
which lead from it towards erroneous opinions, and shall 
even be able readily to indicate to every wanderer the 
precise point from which he has gone astray. For every 
truth can be derived only from one fundamental principle. 
What the fundamental principle is, upon which each pro- 
blem of human knowledge may be solved, it is the pro- 
vince of a fundamental philosophy to declare; — how each 
principle should be followed out to its consequences, uni- 
versal logic must teach; — and thus the true as well as the 
false way is easily ascertained. 

But the consideration of opposite opinions is of great 
value in imparting distinct and clear views of discovered 
truth. In comparing truth with error, we are obliged to 
note with greater accuracy the distinctive marks of both ; 

F 



iir Conceptions of them acquire Bharper precision and 
greater clearness. I now avail myself of this method to 

give you a short and plain view of what lias been already 
brought forward in these lectures. 

I have placed the vocation of Man in the continual 
advancement of culture, and in the harmonious development* 
of all his faculties and wants j and I have assigned to that 
class, whose duty it 'is to watch over the progress and 
harmony of this development; a most honourable place in 
human society. 

No man has opposed this truth more decidedly, on more 
plausible grounds, or with more powerful eloquence, than 
Rousseau. To him the advancement of culture is the sole 
cause of all human depravity. According to him there is 
no salvation for man but in a State of Nature; and — what 
indeed iiows most accurately from his principles — that class 
of men who most effectually promote the advancement of 
culture, — the Scholar-class, — is at once the source and centre 
of all human misery and corruption. 

Such a theory has been propounded by a man who has 
himself cultivated his mental faculties in a very high 
degree. With all the power wdiich he acquired by this 
superior cultivation, he laboured, wherever it was possible, 
to convince mankind of the justice of his doctrines, — to 
persuade them to return to that State of Nature which he 
so much commended. To him retrogression was progress, 
and that forsaken state of nature the ultimate end which a 
now marred and perverted humanity must finally attain. 
Thus he did precisely that which we do, — he laboured to 
advance humanity according to his own ideas, and to aid 
towards its highest end. He did that precisely 
which he himself so bitterly censured; his actions stand in 
opposition to bin principles. 

The same contradiction reigns in his principles themselves. 
ited him to action but some impulse of his heart? 



EXAMINATION OF ROUSSBAu's THEORY. 63 

Had he examined into this impulse, and connected it with 
that which led him into error, he would then have had 
unity and harmony both in his actions and in his conclusions. 
If we can reconcile the first contradiction, we shall, at the 
same time, have reconciled the second; the point of agree- 
ment of the first, is likewise that of the second. We shall 
discover this point, we shall solve the contradiction, we 
shall understand Rousseau better than he understood him- 
self, and we shall then discover him to be in perfect 
harmony with himself and with us. 

Whence did Rousseau derive this extraordinary theory, 
maintained indeed partially by others before him, but as a 
whole so completely opposed to the general opinion? Did 
he deduce it by reason from some higher principle? Oh 
no ! Rousseau did not penetrate on any side to the confines 
of human knowledge ; he does not appear ever to have pro- 
posed such a question to himself. What truth he possessed, 
he founded immediately on his feelings; and his knowledge 
has therefore the faults common to all knowledge founded 
on mere undeveloped feeling, — that it is partly uncertain, 
because man cannot render to himself a complete account of 
his feelings; — that the true is mixed up with the untrue, 
because a judgment resting upon feeling alone, regards as 
of like meaning, things which are yet essentially different. 
Feeling does not err; but the judgment errs, because it 
misinterprets feeling, and mistakes a compound for a pure 
feeling. From these undeveloped feelings, upon which 
Rousseau grounds his reflections, he proceeds with perfect 
justice : once in the region of syllogism, he is in harmony 
with himself, and hence carries the reader who can think 
with him, irresistibly along. Had he allowed his feelings 
to influence the course of his inquiries, they would have 
brought him back to the right path, from which they had first 
led him astray. To have erred less than he did, Rousseau 
must have possessed either more or less acutencss of intel- 



6 l LBOTOSH V. 

Lect than he actually did possess; and so lie who roads his 
works, in order not to be led astray by them, must possess 
either a much higher or a much lower degree of acuteness 
than he possessed ; — he must either be a complete thinker, 
or no thinker at all. 

Separated from the great world, and guided by his pure 
feeling and lively imagination, Rousseau had sketched a 
picture of society, and particularly of the Scholar-class, — 
with whose labours he especially occupied himself, — as they 
should be, and as they necessarily must and would be, if 
they followed the guidance of common feeling. He came 
into the great world; he cast his eyes around him, and 
what were his sensations when the world and its Scholars, 
as they actually ivere, met his gaze ! He saw at its most 
fearful extreme, that scene which every one may see who 
turns his eyes towards it;* — men bowed down to the dust 
like beasts, chained to the earth regardless of their high 
dignity and the divinity within them; — saw their joys, 
their sorrows, their whole existence dependent on the satis- 
faction of base sensuality, whose demands rose higher with 
every gratification; — saw them careless of right or wrong, 
holy or unholy, in the satisfaction of their appetites, and 
ever ready to sacrifice humanity itself to the desire of the 
moment; — saw them ultimately lose all sense of right and 
wrong, and place wisdom in selfish cunning, and duty in 
the gratification of lust ; — saw them at last place their 
glory in this degradation, and their honour in this shame, 
and even look down with contempt on those who were not 
so wise, and not so virtuous as themselves; — saw those who 
should have been the teachers and guides of the nation sunk 
into the accommodating slaves of its corruption; those who 
should have given to the age the character of wisdom and 



* The reader irfll bear in mind that these Lectures were delivered in 1794, 
the Revolutionary Epoch in v ranee. 



EXAMINATION OF ROUSSEAu's THEOBY. (j~> 

of earnestness, assiduously catching the tones of the reigning 
folly and the predominant vice; — heard them ask, for the 
guidance of their inquiries, not, Is it true? is it good and 
noble? but, Will it be well received? — not, What will huma- 
nity gain by it? but, What shall / gain by it? how much 
gold, or what prince's favour, or what beauty's smile? — saw 
them even look on this mode of thought as their highest 
honour, and bestow a compassionating shrug on the imbe- 
ciles who understood not like them to propitiate the spirit 
of the time; — saw talent, and art, and knowledge, united 
in the despicable task of extorting a more delicate enjoy- 
ment from nerves already wasted in pleasure; or in the de- 
testable attempt to palliate or justify human depravity, to 
raise it to the rank of virtue, and wilfully demolish everything 
which yet placed a barrier in its way; — saw at length, — 
and learned it by his own unhappy experience, — that those 
unworthy men Avere sunk so low that the last misgiving 
which truth once produced within them, the last doubt 
which its presence called into being, having utterly disap- 
peared, they became quite incapable of even examining its 
principles; — that even with the demand for inquiry ringing 
in their ears, they could only answer — ( Enough ! it is not 
true — we do not wish it to be true, for it is no gain to us/ 
He saw all this, and his strained and disappointed feelings 
revolted against it. With deep indignation he rebuked 
his age. 

Let us riot blame him for this sensibility, — it is the mark 
of a noble soul : he who feels the godlike within him, will 
often thus sigh upwards to eternal Providence : ' These then 
are my brethren ! these the companions whom thou hast 
given me on the path of earthly existence ! Yes, they bear my 
shape, but our minds and hearts are not related; my words 
are to them a foreign speech, and theirs to me : I hear the 
sound of their voices, but there is nothing in my heart to 
give them a meaning ! Oh eternal Providence ! wherefore 

f2 



66 I.1VTVKK V. 

didst thou cause me to be bora among such men? or if it 

wore necessary that I should bo born among them, wherefore 
didst thou give me these feelings, this longing presentiment 

of something better and higher) why didst thou not make 
me like them I why didst thon not make me base even as 
they are I I could then have lived contentedly among them.' 
Ye do well to reprove his melancholy, and censure his dis- 
content, ye to whom all around you seems good; ye do well 
to praise the contentment with which ye derive enjoyment 
from all things, and the modesty with which ye accept men 
as they are ! He would have been as modest as ye are, had 
he been tormented with as few noble aspirations. Ye cannot 
rise to the conception of a better state, and for you truly 
the present is well enough. 

In this fulness of bitter feeling, Rousseau was now 
incapable of seeing anything but the object which had 
called it forth. Sensualism reigned triumphant; that was 
the source of the evil : he would know how to destroy this 
empire of sensualism at all hazards, cost what it might. No 
wonder that he fell into the opposite extreme. Sensualism 
shall not reign; — it does not reign when it is destroyed, — 
when it ceases to exist; or when it is not developed, — 
when it has not acquired power. Hence Rousseau s State 
of Nature. 

In the State of Nature the faculties peculiar to man shall 
not be cultivated; they shall not even be distinguished. 
Man shall have no other wants than those of his animal 
nature; he shall live like the beast on the meadow beside 
him. It is true that in this state none of those crimes 
would find a place against which Rousseau's feelings so 
strongly revolted; man would eat when he hungered, and 
drink when lie was athirst, whatever he found before him; 
and, when satisfied, would have no interest in depriving 
others of that which lie could not use himself. Once satiated 
himself any one might eat or drink before him what and 



EXAMINATION OF ROUSSEAU^ THEORY. G7 

how much soever he would, for now he desires rest, and 
has no time to disturb others. In the anticipation of the 
future lies the true character of humanity; it is therefore 
the source of all human vice. Shut out the source, and 
vice is no more; — and Rousseau did effectually exclude it 
from his State of Nature. 

But it is also true, that as surely as man is man, and not 
a beast, he is not destined to remain in this condition. 
Vice, indeed, would thus cease; but with it, Virtue and 
Reason too would be destroyed. Man becomes an irrational 
creature ; there is a new race of animals, and men no longer 
exist. 

There can be no doubt that Rousseau acted honourably 
with men : he endeavoured himself to live in that State of 
Nature which he so warmly recommended to others, and 
showed throughout every indication of this desire. We 
may then put the question to him, what was it in truth 
which he sought in this State of Nature 1 He felt himself 
imprisoned, crushed down by manifold wants, and — what 
is indeed the least evil for the majority of men, but the 
bitterest oppression to such a man as he was, — he was often 
seduced from the path of rectitude and virtue by these 
wants. Living in a State of Nature, he thought he should be 
without these wants ; and be spared so much pain from their 
denial, and so much yet bitterer pain from their dishonur- 
able gratification; — he should then be at peace tvith himself. 
He also found himself oppressed on every side by others, be- 
cause he stood in the way of the satisfaction of their desires. 
Man does not do evil in vain and for no purpose, thought 
Rousseau, and we with him ; none of those who injured 
him would have done so, had they not felt these desires. 
Had all around him lived in a State of Nature, he should 
then have been at peace with others. Thus Rousseau desired 
undisturbed tranquillity within and without. Well : but 
we inquire farther, — To what purpose would he apply this 









unruffled peace I Undoubtedly fco that, to which he applied 

the measure of rest thai did actually belong fco him; — to 

kion on his destiny and his duties, thereby to ennoble 

. I his Fellow-men, But how was that possible in 
►f animalism which he assumed, how was it possible 

without the previous culture which he could only obtain in 
the state of civilization? He thus insensibly transplanted 
himself and society into this State of Nature, with all that 
ctdtiv ich they could only acquire by coming out of 

Nature; he imperceptibly assumed that they 
had already left it and had traversed the whole path of 
civilization, and yet had not left it and had not become 
civilized. And thus we have arrived at Rousseau's false 
assumption, and are now able to solve his paradoxes with- 
out any serious difficulty. 

Rousseau would not transplant men back into a State of 
Nature with respect to spiritual culture, but only with 
ct to independence of the desires of sense. And it is 
certainly true, that as man approaches nearer to the highest 
end of his existence, it must constantly become easier for 
him to satisfy his sensual wants; — that his physical exist- 
ence must cost him less labour and care ; that the fruitful- 
<rf the soil will increase, the climate become milder; an 
innumerable multitude of new discoveries and inventions 
will be made to diversify and facilitate the means of sub- 
ice; — that further, as reason extends her dominion, the 
wants of man will constantly diminish in strength, not as 
in a rude State of Nature, because he is ignorant of the de- 
use he can bear their deprivation; — 
-• equally ready to enjoy the best with relish, 
it can be enjoyed without violation of duty, and to 
suffer the y tiling which he cannot obtain with 

ir« Is tiii- state considered ideal; — in which respect it is 
i nable like every other ideal state, — so is the golden 
yment without physical labour which the 



EXAMINATION OF ROUSSEAU'S THEORY. 09 

old poets describe. Thus what Rousseau, under the name 
of the State of Nature, and these poets by the title of the 
Golden Age, place behind us, lies actually before us. (It may 
be remarked in passing, that it is a phenomenon of frequent 
occurrence, particularly in past ages, that what we shall be- 
come, is pictured as something which we already have been ; 
and that what we have to attain is represented as something 
which we have formerly lost : a phenomenon which has its 
proper foundation in human nature, and which I shall explain 
on a suitable occasion.) 

Rousseau forgot that humanity can and should only 
approach nearer to this state by care, toil, and struggle. 
Nature is rude and savage without the hand of man : and 
it should be so, that thereby man may be forced to leave 
his natural state of inactivity, and elaborate her stores; 
that thereby he himself, instead of a mere product of 
nature, may become a free reasonable being. He does most 
certainly leave it; he plucks at all hazards the apple of 
knowledge, for the impulse is indestructibly implanted 
within him, to be like God. The first step from this state 
leads him to misery and toil : his wants are awakened, and 
clamorously demand gratification. But man is naturally 
indolent and sluggish, like matter from whence he pro- 
ceeded. Hence arises the hard struggle between want and 
indolence : the first triumphs, but the latter bitterly com- 
plains. Now in the sweat of his brow he tills the field, 
and it frets him that it should bear thorns and thistles 
which he must uproot. Want is not the source of Vice, — 
it is the motive to activity and virtue; indolence, sluggish- 
ness, is the source of all Vice. How to enjoy as much as 
possible, — how to do as little as possible, — this is the ques- 
tion of a perverted nature, and the various attempts made 
to answer this question are its crimes. There is no salva- 
tion for man until this natural sluggishness is successfully 
combated, — until he find all his pleasures and enjoyments 



U v. 

bivity alone. To that end pain is 
I with t\\c feeling of want. It should rouse us 

»bject of all pain; it is peculiarly the object 
of thai pain which we experience at every view of the 
imperfection, depravity, and misery of our fellow-men. 
lie who docs not feel this pain, — this bitter indignation, 
is a mean-souled man. lie who does feel it, should en- 
iir to release himself from it, by directing all his 
powers to the task of improving, as far as possible, all 
within his sphere and around him. And even supposing 
his labours should prove fruitless, and he should see 
no use hi their continuance, still the feeling of his own 
activity, the consciousness of his own power which he calls 
forth to the struggle against the general depravity, will 
cause him to forget this pain. Here Kousseau failed. He 
had energy, but energy rather of suffering than of action; 
he felt strongly the miseries of mankind, but he was far 
onscious of his own power to remedy them; — and 
thus as he felt himself he judged of others; as he con- 
ducted himself amid his own peculiar sorrows, so did hu- 
manity at large, in his view, endure the common lot. He 
took account of its sorrows, but he forgot the power which 
the human race possesses, — to help itself. 

j with his ashes, and blessings upon his memory ! 
He has done his work. He has awakened fire in many 
<vil ^ who have carried out what he began. But he wrought 
L without being conscious of his own influence; — he 
out intending to rouse others to the work, 
out weighing their labour against the sum of general 
rarity. This want of endeavour after self- 
bout his whole system of ideas. He 
e man o: sensibility, not at the same time of 

to its power. His lovers, led astray 
come virtuous; but we do not rightly perceive 



EXAMINATION 01 ROUSSEAU S THE0B <L 

how they become so. The struggle of reason against passion 
— the victory, gradual and slow, gained only by exertion, 
labour and pain — that most interesting and instructive 
of all spectacles, he conceals from our view. I lis pupil is 
developed by himself alone. The teacher does little more 
than remove the obstructions to his growth, and leaves the 
rest to the care of Nature. She must henceforth and for 
ever retain him under her guardianship. The energy, ar- 
dour, and firm determination to war against and to subdue 
her, he has not taught him. Among good men he will be 
happy; but among bad, — and where is it that the majority 
are not bad? — he will suffer unspeakable misery. Thus 
Rousseau throughout depicted Reason at peace, but not in 
strife; — he weakened Sense, instead of strengthening Reason. 
I have undertaken the present inquiry in order to solve 
the famous paradox which stood so directly opposed to our 
principles : but not for that purpose alone. I would at the 
same time show you, by the example of one of the greatest 
men of our own age, ivhat you should not be. I would, by 
his example, unfold to you a true lesson for your whole life. 
You are now learning by philosophic inquiry what the men 
should be, with whom you have not as yet generally entered 
into any near, close, and indissoluble relations. You will 
soon come into closer relations with them. You will find 
them very different in reality from what your philosophy 
would have them to be. The nobler and better you are 
yourselves, the more painfully w T ill you feel the experience 
which awaits you. Be not . overcome by this pain, but 
overcome it by action: — it does not exist without a pur- 
pose; it is a part of the plan of human improvement. To 
stand aloof and lament over the corruption of man, without 
stretching forth a hand to diminish it, is weak effeminacy ; 
to cast reproach and bitter scorn on man, without showing 
him how he may become better, is unfriendly. Act! act ! 
— it is to that end we are here. Should we fret ourselves 



72 LECTURE v. 

thai others are not bo perfect as we are, when we ourselves 
are only somewhat more perfect than they 1 ? Is not this our 
greatest perfection, — the* vocation which has been given 
to OB, — thai we must labour for the perfecting of others'? 
Let us rejoice in the prospect of that widely extended field 
which we are called to cultivate! Let us rejoice that power 
is given to us. and that our task is infinite! 



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work published under the same title in 1841, and now out of print. The 
second volume is altogether new, and refers solely to the present condition of 
the country, and will be sold separately if required, price 10s. 6d. 



" This is a useful book, informed with 
lively feeling and sound judgment. It 
contains an exhibition of Italian views 
of matters, social and political, by an 
Italian who has learned to speak 
through English thoughts as well as 
English words. Particularly valuable 
are the sketches of recent Italian 
history; for the prominent characters 
are delineated in a cordial and sympa- 
thetic spirit, yet free from enthusiastic 
ideas, and with unsparing discrimina- 
' tion ..... .The criticisms on " The Past" 

j will richly repay perusal; it is, how- 
| ever, on "The Present" of Italy that 
j the main interest of the book resides. 
: This volume does not merely possess an 
j interest simi 1 ar to th at of contemporary 
! works ; it supplies a desideratum, and 
is well adapted to aid the English 



reader in forming a just estimate of the 
great events now in progress in Jtaly. 
Not the least wonderful part of the 
book is the entire mastery the author 
has acquired of our language." — Ex- 
aminer, April. 

"This important work treats the 
literature and politics of Italy in a 
masterly manner, and will repay ten- 
fold the labour of perusal." — Douglas 
JerrolaVs Weekly Paper. 

" This is an exceedingly seasonable, 
intelligent, and interesting work." — 
Daily News. 

" Our author has an earnest, nay en- 
thusiastic, love and admiration of hie 
native country; with the ability and 
eloquence to render his subject very- 
interesting and attractive." — Morning- 
Advertiser. 



Tbe following notices refer to the first volume of the work .- 



" The work is admirable, useful, in- 
structive. I am delighted to find an 
Italian coming forward with so much 
noble enthusiasm, to vindicate his 
country and obtain for it its proper 
interest in the eyes of Europe. The 

English is wonderful I never saw 

any approach to such a style in a 
foreigner before— as full of beauty in 
diction as in thought " — Sir E. Bulwer 
Lytton, Bart. 

" I recognise the rare characteristics 
of genius— a large conception of the 
topic, a picturesque diction founded on 
profound thought, and that passionate 
sensibility which becomes the subject— 
a subject beautiful as its climate, and 
inexhaustible as its soil."— B. Disraeli, 
Esq., M.P. 

" A very rapid and summary resume 
of the fortunes of Italy from the fall of 
the Roman Empire to the present 
moment.— A work of industry and 
labour, written with a good purpose. — 
A bird's-eye view of the subject that 
will revive the recollections of the 
scholar, and seduce the tyro into a 
longer course of reading."— Athenamm. 

•'This work contains more inform- 
ation on the subject, and more refer- 
ences to the present position of Italy, 
than we have seen in any recent pro- 
duction." — Foreign Quarterly Review. 

" In reference to style, the work 



before us is altogether extraordinary, 
as that of a foreigner, and in the higher 
quality of thought we may commend 
the author for his acute, and often 
original, criticism, and his quick per- 
ception of the grand and beautiful in 
his native literature." — Prescott (in the 
North American lievierr.) 

?' The work before us consists of a 
continuous parallel of the political and 
literary history of Italy from the earli- 
est period of the middle ages to the 
present time. The author not only 
penetrates the inner relations of those 
dual appearances of national life, but 
possesses the power of displaying them 
to the reader with great clearness and 
effect. We remember no other work in 
which the civil conditions and literary 
achievements of a people have been 
blended in such a series of living pic- 
tures, representing successive periods ol 
history ." — Algemetne Zeitung. 

"An earnest and eloquent work."— 
Examiner. 

"A work ranking distinctly in the 
class of belles lettres, and well deserv- 
ing of a library place in England."— 
Literary Gattette. 

" A work warmly admired by excel- 
lent judges."— Tart'* Magazine. 

"An admirable work written with 
great power and beauty."— /' 

felloir. (Poets and Poetry of En 



Works published f>y 



Sunrise in Italy. &c, Reveries. 



I»v Ill\K\ MOKI.I.V. 



in i volume, small ito. elegantly printed and bound, 



The Principles of Nature, her Divine Revelations, and a Voice 

TO MANKIND. B\ ami through Andrew Jackson Davis, the 
" Poughkeepsie Seer," and "Clairvoyant." 2 vols, large 8vo. cloth, 
1 8s. 

*** The Work consists of 800 pages, including a history' of its produc- 
with a Biographical Sketch, and Tori rait (engraved on Steel) of the 
Author, 






" l'aken :^ a whole, the work is a I 
and and elaborate discussion of the | 
of tin Universe, ami for gran- 
deur oi conoeption, soundness of pnn- 

. clearness of illustration, order of | 

arrangement and encyclopediacal range 

of subjects, I know of no work of any 

e mind that will bear awa*yfrom it 

the palm. To every theme the inditing 

mind approaches with a certain latent 

lousriess of mastery of all its 

principles, details, and technicalities; 

and yet without the least ostentatious 

dis| tiayof supei ior mental powers."— Dr. 

. Professor of Hebrew in New York. 

" In whatever view the work is 

regar led, it is a very remarkable pro- 

on, and will assuredly attract 

naive attention here, as it already 

ill Amerii &. n -—Mornin)g Advertiser. 

he book has excited so much 

interest in America, that though large, 

isting of - 11 pages, 900 copies were 

. one week." — Family Herald. 



"Viewed as one will, the book is one 
of fche most remarkable literary curi- 
osities ever heard of '."—Massach use Us 
Quarterly Review. 

" The main idea is skilfully sustained 
and developed, and there is a great deal 
in the book that we admire, and have 
long admired in other connexions."— 
American Christian Examiner. 

" A very wonderful book, exhibiting 
everywhere a gigantic grasp of thought.'' 
— Critic. 

" Let our readers distinctly under- 
stand that we do not on any supposition 
regard this book as common place, or 
easily explained. Beit fraud, delusion, 
or mixture,— be it mesmerism, or newly 
invented communication from the 
spiritual world, or downright revelation, 
be it any one of these, or anything else, 
it is very curious. As soon as the right 
name is found for it, we will be the first 
to call, of that name, extraordinary,— 
! very extraordinary."— Athenaeum. 



Endeavours after the Christian life. 

By James Martixeau. Second Edition. 

Endeavours after the Christian life. 

By Jambs Marttneau. i2mo, 7*. Gd. cloth. 

" Heartily do we welcome a second 

volume of ' Endeavours after the 

bin Life,' because when all that 

])■ t our taste is omitted, we have 

BtiU left more to instruct, interest, im- 

<-, and elevate, than in almost any 

other volume with which we are ac- 

3 •.:<■.< I Whatever may be its 
i I it, as one of the most 

eras gifts to the religious world in 
modern tunes.' ~ inquirer. 

" Mr. ftfartineau is known, much 

.ml the limits of bis own denomin- 

a mi i i peat grifl - and ac- 

tliShments, and his publications 

been all marked by subtle and 

rous thought, much beauty oi 

on, and certain chart) 

fcion, which are sure to find 

..... 1 here i- a delicacy and 

eality of ethical sentiment in 

ourses which must commend 

/ that many 



(First Series.) 

12mo, 7*. Gd. cloth. 

(Second Series.) 



of the orthodox in all departments 
might receive from them intellectual 
stimulus, moral polish, and in some 
moods religious edification," — Noncon- 
formist. 

" One of the most interesting, attrac- 
tive, and most valuable series of essays 
which the literature of Christianity has 
received from priest or layman for 
many a year. 

" Volumes that have in them both 
intellect and true eloquence, and which 
satisfy the understanding while they 
plea -e the taste and improve the heart. 

" When we say that these Discourses 
are eminently praotieal,we mean that 
they are adapted, not only ibr man in 
the abstract to teach the duties of 
Christianity everywhere but also with 
reference to the circumstances of 
society Of the age and country in 
which our lot is cast."— 'Critic* 



John Chapman^ 142, Strand. 



Peter Jones, or Onward Bound. 

An Autobiography. Post 8vo, cloth, 3s. 

" The idea of the biography is to 
depict B mind rising from a condition 
of ignorance, and, by means of me- 
chanics' institutions, and the reading of 
books in the English tongue, realising 
for itself the relations between philoso- 
phy, science, and religion, and the 



hearing of all on theological doffii 

and the literature of the Hehi 
The writer is manifestly competent to 
his task, and lias accomplished it with 
uncommon ability and considerable 
taste." — Douglas jerrold's Newspaper. 



Poems. By Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

Post 8vo. 6s. cloth gilt. 



" There are in these stanzas many 
a fine image and sometimes a cluster 
of such— scattered symbols of deep sig- 
nificance— and the presence of sincere 

and earnest thinking everywhere 

A wild low music accompanies these 
artless strains; an indistinct, uncertain 
melody— such a tune as an untaught 
musical nature might choose to itself in 
solitary places There are some- 
times stanzas which are suggestive, not 
only in a political relation, but in one 
far higher— as touching those social re- 
forms which now everywhere command 
the attention of society. Some portions 
of a series of poems entitled * Wood 
Notes,' are in their peculiar way yet 
finer ; and the entire succession has 
been enthusiastically received on the 
other side of the Atlantic." — Athenaeum. 



" There are in this volume unmisi 
able evidences of genius; the soul of 
the poet flashes out continually; and the 
hand of the poet is seen often.** — Critic, 

"He occasionally reminds us of the 
reflective depth of Wordsworth ; and 
sometimes evinces a delicate fancy and 
richness of epithetworthyof Tennyson." 
— Manchester ExarMmer. 

" His lines are full of meaning."— 
Inquirer. 

" To read his finer pieces is to our 
poetic feeling like receiving a succes- 
sion of electric shocks j . . . .even his un- 
shaped fragments are not bits of glass 
but of diamond, and have always the 
true poetic lustre. W r e know of no 
compositions that surpass his in their 
characteristic excellence." — Christian 
Examiner. 



Political Economy., and the Philosophy of GoTcrnment. 

A Series of Essays selected from the works of M. de Sismondi. With 
an Historical Notice of his Life and Writings by M. Mignet. Trans- 
lated from the French, and illustrated by Extracts from an unpublished 
Memoir, and from M. de Sismondi's private Journals and Letters, to 
which is added a List of his Works, and a preliminary Essay, by the 
Translator. 8vo. cloth, 12s. 



" In this country the views of Sismon- 
di, long derided, and long kept down, 
have lately achieved a signal triumph, 
and are still advancing for the amelio- 
ration of social ills. The essays 

embody Sismondi's settled views on 
Political Economy, and on the true 
policy which should animate a Govern- 
ment After having studied more 

deeply than most men," the science of 
Government and the speculations of 
Political Philosophy, he settled down 
into t/hs conviction that the principles 
of Christianity were as applicable to 
the life of nations as to that of indivi- 
duals, and that the happiness of the 
people would be best promoted by ob- 
serving them Besides the essays 

the volume contains many curious illus- 
trations of the Life of Sismondi 



In an ingenious preliminary essay by 
the translator, the views of Sismondi 
are applied to our social condition at 
the present time. The volume is alto- 
gether admirably produced, and, we 
think, is entitled to the earnest consi- 
deration of all persons who take an 
interest in social politics." — Britain, in. 

" Few recent writers on Political ' 
Economy have claims on our -attention 
equal to those of Sismondi. In England 
he is best known as an historian, but he 
is no less entitled to high reputation as 
a sound and thoughtful expbuhdei 
the social sciences- • ....We cordially re- 
commend this volume, as forming a 
most pleasant introduction to the s 
Of the sciences of which it treats. I: is 

botii valuable in itself and peculiarly 
well timed." — Atlas. 



fPotki published b\j 



■' rhework i.- admirably translated. 
it has all the vigour of original com- 
on. rhe preliminary notice by 
translator is replete with enlight- 
ened ideas. NYe heartily oommend the 
volume to all who feel an interest in the 
Boeial ami political problems 

Which must soon ho solved and adjust- 
ed, lest England la reduced to the state 
of 1 reland."— Douglas JerroUPt Newt. 

" We should like that these essays 
Should have a wide eirculation, and 
that the tone of pure benevolence 
Which pervades them should thrill the 

hearts of cold-blooded economists with 
tenderer feelings of commiseration 
than usually mingle with their frigid 



Calculations, There can he no question 
as to the evils he so powerfully exposes 
being directly caused by the reckless 
application of the principles he would 
entirely discard. 

" They will amply repay a careful 
reading, as each is a masterly discussion 
of the most prominent questions rela- 
ting to our social condition."— Noncon. 

" A writer of tirst-rate merit in 
history and polities, and one whose 
sympathy with the poor and discern- 
ment of the trite good of men and of 
nations must give weight to all his 
moral convictions, concerning the right 
and wrong of our results."— Prospective 
Review. 



History of the Hebrew Monarchy, from the Administration of 

Samuel to the Babylonish Captivity. 8vo, cloth, 10s. 6d. 



" It is truly refreshing to find Jewish 
history treated, as in the volume before 
US, according to the rules of sound 

criticism, and good sense The 

publication of such a work will form 
an epoch in biblical literature in this 
country."— Inquirer. 

•• The Author has brought a very 
acute mind, familar with knowledge 
that is beyond the range of ordinary 
scholarship, to the task of combining 
and interpreting the antique and frag- 
mentary records which contain the 



only materials for his work." — Prospec- 
tive Review. 

"This book must be regarded, we 
think, as the most valuable contribution 
ever made in the English Language to 
our means of understanding that por- 
tion of Hebrew History to which it 

relates The Author has not the 

common superstitious reverence for the 
Bible, but he shows everywhere a large, 
humane, and Christian spirit.'' — Mas- 
sachussetts Quarterly Review. 



Honour 3 or, the Story of the hrave Caspar and the fair Annerl. 

By Clemens Brentano. With an Introduction and a Biographical 
Notice of the Author, hy T. W. Appell, Translated from the German. 
Tcp. 8vo. gilt edges, 2s. 6d. 

Shakspeare's Dramatic Art, and his relation to Calderon and 

Translated from the German of Dr. Hermann Ulrici. 8vo. 12s. 



Goethe, 
cloth. 



Outline of Contents. 



I. Sketch of the History of the Eng- 
lish Drama before Shakspeare. 
— R. Greene and Marlowe. 
rr. Shakspeare's Life and Times, 
ui. Shakspeare's Dramatic Style, and 
Poetic View of the World and 
i hinge. 

" We strongly recommend the book 
to the notice of every lover of Shaks- 
peare, for we may truly say that it is 
well calculated to fill up a void in our 
own as well as in German literature." — 

Westminister IU-rv-v. 

" '1 lie author has the ' philosophic 
depth,' which we vainly look for in 
Scnlegel'a criticism of the great poet." 

The Dial. 

" We welcome it as an addition to our 
on the national dramatist— ex- 
haustive, comprehensive, and philo- 
sophical after a Scholastic fashion, and 



iv. Criticism of Shakspeare's Plays. 
v. Dramas ascribed to Shakspeare of 

doubtful Authority. 
vi. Calderon and Goethe in their rela- 
tion to Shakspeare. 



throwing new lights upon many things 
in Shakspeare."- —Spectator. 

" The work of Ulrici in the original, 
has held, ever since its publication, an 
honoured place upon our shelves. We 
consider it as being, when taken all in 
all, one of the most valuable contribu- 
tions ever made to the criticism of 
Shakspeare. The theoretical system 
upon which it rests, if not altogether 
accurate or completely exhaustive, is, 
at all events, wide and searching ; its 
manner of expression is almost every- 
where clear and practical, and its 



John Chapman, 1 12, HI ratal. 



critical expositions are given with 
equal delicacy of feeling and liveliness 

or fancy Hen- there are treated, 

successively, Shakspeare's language, 
his mode of representing characters, 

and his dramatic invention 

Our author has not only spoken 

with excellent good sense, but has 

S laced one or two important points of 
hakspeare's poetical character in a 
clearer light than that in which we are 
accustomed to regard them. Shakspeare 
is shown to be the historically*dramatic 
poet of enlightened Christianity ; and 
the highest value of his works consists 
in their adequately representing, in the 
light of imagination, the Christian 
prospect of man's mysterious destiny." 
— Taifs Magazine. 

" A good translation of Dr. Ulrici's 
work on Shakspeare cannot fail of being 
welcome to the English thinker. It is, 
in fact, a vindication of our great poet 
from a charge which has lately been 
brought against him by critics on both 
sides of the Atlantic. Dr. Ulrici boldly 
claims for him the rank of an emi- 
nently Christian author The pre- 
sent work is the least German of all 
German books, and contains remark- 
able novelty in its views of the subject 
and the arrangement of its topics. The 
plan adopted by Dr. Ulrici of contem- 
plating each play in -the light of a 
central idea is especially deserving of 
all praise — We recommend the entire 
criticism to the perusal of the judicious 
reader."— Athenaeum. 



The Life of Jesus^ Critically Examined. 



By Dr. David Friedrich Strauss. 3 vols. 8vo. £1 16s. cloth. 



"The extraordinary merit of this 

book Strauss's dialectic dexterity, 

his forensic coolness, the even polish of 
his style, present him to us as the ac- 
complished pleader, too completely 
master of his work to feel the tempta- 
tion to unfair advantage or unseemly 

temper We can testify that the 

translator has achieved a very tough 
work with remarkable spirit and fideli- 
ty. The author, though indeed a good 
writer, could hardly have spoken better 
had his country and language been 
English. The work has evidently fal- 
len mto the hands of one who has not 
only effective command of both lan- 
guages, but a familiarity with the sub- 
ject-matter of theological criticism, and 
an initiation into its technical phraseo- 
logy." — Westminster and Foreign Quar- 
terly Review, 1847. 

" Whoever reads these volumes with- 
out any reference to the German, must 
be pleased with the easy, perspicuous, 
idiomatic, and harmonious force of the 
English style. But he will be still 
more satisfied when, on turning to the 
original, he finds that the rendering 



is word for word, thought for thought, 
and sentence for sentence. In pre- 
paring so beautiful a rendering as the 
present, the difficulties can have been 
neither few nor small in the way 
of preserving, in various parts of the 
work, the exactness of the translation, 
combined with that uniform harmony 
and clearness of style, which impart 
to the volumes before us the air 
and spirit of an original. A modest 
and kindly care for his reader's con- 
venience has induced the translator 
often to supply the rendering into Eng- 
lish of a Greek quotation, where there 
was no corresponding rendering into 
German in the original. Indeed, 
Strauss may well say, as he does in the 
notice, which he writes for this English 
edition, that as far as he has examined 
it, the translation is, " et accurata et 
perspicua.' " — Prospective Reriexc. 

" In regard to learning, acuteness, and 
sagacious conjectures, the work resem- 
bles Kiebuhr's ' History of Kome.' The 
general manner of treating the subject 
and arranging the chapters, sections, 
and parts of the argument, indicates 



" Excellencies of a high order per* 
vade this performance, which, in our 
judgment, entitle it to the grateful re- 
i ception of all who ere de-hou- of he- 
coming better acquainted with the 

mind of Shakspeare The sketch 

of the modern dramatic art with which 
the book opens, as well as of the lite of 
Shakspeare, is well drawn : indeed, the 
historical sketches throughout are ad- 
mirably executed i he author's 

views are ingenious, and the criticisms 
on the several dramas are admirable, 
and will fully repay the reader's study." 
— No n co tiformist. 

" We welcome this work as a valu- 
able accession to Shaksperian litera- 
ture. It is the principal object of Dr. ' 
Ulrici's criticisms of the several plays, 
to trace and bring to light the funda- 
mental and vivifying idea of each. In 
this difficult task we think he has 
been eminently successful We can- 
not dismiss this very valuable work, 
which breathes a tone of pure and ex- 
alted morality, derived from a mind 
truly religious, and whose holy and 
chastening influence expresses itself 
throughout, without remarking how- 
much we admire the excellent manner 
in which it is translated." — Inquirer. 

"Ulrici's admirable ■ Shakspeare's 
Dramatic Art' has been lately trans- 
lated with considerable skill. We re- 
commend the work as an addition to 
our higher critical literature, and wo 
should like to recur to it more fully." — 
Christian Remembran cer. 



Wbrka published by 



oonsizmmate dial ootioal skill ; while the 
8t) Le is dear, the expression direct, and 
the author's openness In referring to his 
Booroes of information, and stating his 
oonolnsions In all their simplicity, is 

candid and exemplary it not only 

surpasses all its predecessors of its kind 
in Learning, aouteness, and thorough ill- 
ation, but it ifl marked by aserioUS 



and earnest spirit." Christian Examiner. 

•• l found in M. Strauss a young man 
full of candour, gentleness, and modesty 

one possessed Of a soul that was al- 
most n\\ sterious, and, as it wore, sad- 
dened i»y t ho reputation he bad gained. 

Ho seareely seems to bo tbe author Of 

t ho work under consideration*''' QuinMt 

In rue tics Monties. 



Translations from the (icrninii of Joan Paul, Novalis, Goethe, 

km. and. RUOKBRT, and from the French of MlCKIEWICZ, an eminent 
Polish poet By Hknky Bibeye, Esq,, and John Edward Taylor. 121110. 
gantly bound in cloth, 2s, t>d. 

The Dramas of Iplii^ema in Tawris, and Torquato Tasso, of 

Goethe; and the MAID OF ORLEANS, of Schiller. Translated, 
(omitting some passages,) with Introductory Remarks* by Anna Swanwick. 
Bvo, cloth; 6s. 



are very beautiful ; and while they will 
serve to make the mere English reader 
acquainted with two of the most perfect 
works ever written, the Iphigenia and 
the Tasso, they will form useful assist- 
ants to those who are commencing the 
study of the German language." — Fo- 
reign Quarterly Iievitne. 

" This English version presents these 
poems to us in a garb not unw r orthy of 
the conceptions of their authors." — 
Morning Chronicle. 

" The verse is smooth and harmo- 
nious, and no one acquainted with the 
original can fail to be struck with its 
great fidelity and accuracy." — Christian 
Teacher. 



" It is seldom that we meet with a 
translator so competent as the lady 
who has here rendered these selections 
from the two great poets of Germany 
into elegant and vigorous English verse. 
The 'Iphigenia' of Goethe has been 
already well done by Mr. William Tay- 
lor, of Norwich ; but his version is not, 
by many degrees, so readable as the 
one before us." — Athenceum. 

" We have to congratulate the trans- 
lator on perfect success in a very diffi- 
cult task." — Dahlia University Magazine. 

" The translator has gone to her 
beautiful task in the right spirit, ad- 
hering with fidelity to the words of the 
1 riginal, and evidently penetrating the 
mind of the poet. The translations 

Chaiuiiiig's Works, Complete. 

Edited by Joseph Barker. In G vols. 12mo. 6s. sewed, 8s. cloth. 

A Retrospect of the Religious Life of England 5 

Or, the Charon, Puritanism, and Free Inquiry. By John James Tayler, 
B.A. PostHvo. 10s Gd. cloth. 

" The work is written in a chastely 
beautiful style, manifests extensive 
og and careful research; is full 
of thought, and decidedly original in 
it- character. It is marked also by 
the modesty which usually characterises 

<rit. : ' Intjuircr. 

" Mr. Tayler is actuated by no sec- 

n bias, and we heatily thank him 

for this addition to our religious litera- 

tmintfter lici-iew. 

"It i- not often QUT good fortune to 

meet with a book bo well conceived, 

. <•!! written, and go in -tractive as 

thi-. The various phases of the national 
mind, described with the clearness and 
forceof3fr.1 ayler^rurnisb an inexhaust- 
ible material iox reflection. .Mr. Tayler 
rdi all partiesin turnfroin an equita- 
ble point of view, i- tolerant towards in- 
tolerance, and admires zeal and excuses 



fanaticism, wherever he sees honesty. 
IV ay, he openly asserts that the religion 
of mere reason is not the religion to 
produce a practical effect on a people ; 
and therefore regards bis own class 
only as one element in a better possible 
church. The clear and comprehen- 
sive; grasp with which he marshals his 
facts, is oven less admirable than the 
impartiality, nay, more than that, the 
general kindliness with which he re- 
flects upon thorn." Examiner. 

" The writei- of this volume has 
all the calmness belonging to one who 
tools himself not mixed up with the 
struggle he describes. There is about 
it a tone of great moderation and can- 
dour : and we cannot but feel confident 
that we have here, at least, the product 
of a thoroughly honest mind."— Voice's 
Edinburgh Magazine. 



John Chapman, 142, Strand. 



The Elements of Individualism. 

By William Maccall. Post 8vo, 

"It is a book worthy of perusal. 
Even those who can find no sympathy 
with its philosophy, will derive plea- 
sure and improvement from the many 
exquisite touches of feeling, and the 
many pictures of beauty which mark 
its pages. 

"The expansive philosophy, the pene- 
trative intellect, and the general 
humanity of the author, have rendered 



7.v. Cxi. cloth. 

The Elements of IndimduaUsm a DC 
strong mid general interest."— -Critic. 
" we have been singularly Iriten 

by t his book Here is a speaker and 

thinker whom we may securely feel to 
hfi ;i hirer of truth, exhibiting in his 
work a form and temper Of mind very 
rare and peculiar in our time." — Man- 
Chester Examiner. 



A Discourse of Matters pertaining to Religion. 

By Theodore Parker. Post 8vo. 7s. cloth. 
contents : 



Book 1.— :Of Religion in General ; or, 

a Discourse of the Sentiment and its 

Manifestations. 
Book 2.— The Relation of the Religious 

Sentiment to God; or, a Discourse 

of Inspiration. 
Book 3. — The Relation of the Religious 

Sentiment to Jesus of Nazareth; or, 

a Discourse of Christianity. 

" Mr. Parker is a very original writer. 
We recommend the work to our readers 
as one of a very remarkable kind, which 
cannot fairly be judged of by detached 
extracts." — Edinburgh Review, October, 
1847. 

" Parker writes like a Hebrew 
prophet, enriched by the ripest culture 

of the modern world His loftiest 

theories come thundering down into 
life with a rapidity and directness of 
aim which, while they alarm the timid 
and amaze the insincere, afford proof 
that he is less eager to be a reformer 
of men's thinking, than a thinker for 
their reformation. Whatever judgment 
the reader may pronounce on the philo- 
sophy of the volume, he will close it, we 
venture to affirm, with the consciousness 
that he leaves the presence of a truly 
great mind ; of one who is not only un- 
oppressed by his large store of learning, 
but seems absolutely to require a mas- 
sive weight of knowledge to resist and 
regulate the native force of his thought, 
and occupy the grasp of his imagina- 
tion." — Westminster and Foreign Quar- 
terly Review* 1847. 

" There is a mastery shown over 
every element of the Great Subject, 
and the slight treatment of it in parts 
no reader can help attributing to the 
plan of the work, rather than to the 
incapacity of the author. From the 
resources of a mind singularly exube- 
rant by nature and laboriously enriched 
by culture, a system of results is here 
thrown up, and spread out in luminous 
exposition,"— Prospective Revi< /r. 

"Mr. Parker is no ephemeral teacher. 
His aspirations for tiie future 



Book 4.— The Relation of the Religious 
Sentiment to the Greatest of Books ; 
or, a Discourse of the Bible. 

Book 5. — The Relation of the Religious 
Sentiment to the Greatest of Human 
Institutions; or, a Discourse of the 
Church. 



are not less glowing than his estimate 
for the past. He revels in warm anti- 
cipations of the orient splendours, of 
which all past systems are but the pre- 
cursors His language is neither 

narrow nor unattractive ; there is a 
consistency and boldness about it which 
will strike upon chords which, when 
they do vibrate, will make the ears i 
more than tingle. We are living in j 
an age which deals in broad and ex- ; 
haustive theories ; which requires a 
system that will account for everything, 
and assigns to every fact a place, 
and that no forced one, in the vast 
economy of things. Whatever defects 
Mr. Parker's view may have, it meets 
these requisites. It is large enough, 
and promising enough ; it is not afraid | 
of history. It puts forth claims ; it is 
an articulately speaking voice. It deals 
neither in compromise nor abatement. 
It demands a hearing; it speaks with 
authority. It has a complete and de- 
termined aspect. It is deficient neither ' 
in candour nor promises ; and what- 
ever comes forward in tin's way will 
certainly find hearers."— Christian Re- 
memJ>rancer. 

" It is impossible for any one to read 
the writings of Theodore Parker . 
out being strongly impressed by them. 
They abound in passages of fervid elo- 
quence—eloquence as remarkable for 
the truth of feeling which directs it, as 
for the genius by which it is inspi 
They are distinguished by philosophical 
thought and learned investigation, no 
less than by the sensibility to beauty 
and goodness which they manifest."— 
Christian Reformer. 



10 



Works published hi/ 



The Life of llchael Serretns. 

Bj W, 11. Di i imom). DJ>, ISmo. cloth U. cd 
Characteristics of Painters. 

Bj HiNin K; i vr. i;>4. Second Edition. 8t6, Elegantly bound in cloth, 3s. 

Historical Sketches of the Old Painters. 

By the Author of the " Log Cabin." 2s. 6d. paper cover ; 3s. cloth. 

(/killing's Works, Complete. (Ileddernick's Edition.) 

6 vols, post svo. reduced to £1. Is. cloth. (Uniform with the Memoirs.) 

Ireland, and her Famine. 

A Discourse. By James Martineau. 12mo. 6d. 

The Bible and the Child. 

A Discourse on Religious Education. By James Martineau. 12mo. 6d. 

Hymns for the Christian Church and Home. 

Edited by James Martineau. Sixth Edition, 12mo. 3s. 6d. cloth. 

The Education of Taste. 

A Series of Lectures. By William Maccall. 12mo. 2s. 6d. 

The Agents of Civilization. 

v Series of Lectures. By William Maccall. l2mo. 3s. 6d. cloth. 

Lectures to Young Men. 

On the Cultivation of the Mind, the Formation of Character, and the Con- 
duct of Life. By George W. Burnap. Royal 8vo. 9d. 



•This, we can foresee, is destined to 

become a household book, and it is a 

time since we met with any work 

better deserving of such distinction. 



We do not know of any work on the 
same subject of equal excellence, and 
those of our readers who are wise will 
buy and study it."— The Apprentice. 



A Dream of Reform. 

By Henry J. Forrest. Post 8vo, 4s. cloth, 

Lectures on the Memory of the Just $ 

Being a Series of Discourses in the Lives and Times of the Ministers of Mill 
Hill Chapel, Leeds. By Rev. C. Wickstead. Second Edition, 8vo. cloth, 

d. 

An Inquiry concerning the Origin of Christianity. 

\',y Charles C. Hennell. Second Edition, Svo. 12s. cloth. 

Christian Theism. 

\\y the Author of "An Inquiry concerning the Origin of Chri8tianity. ,, 8vo. 

A. cloth. 



John Chapman, 142, Strand. 



11 



The Life of the Rev. Joseph Blanco While. 

Written by Himself. With Portions of his Correspondence. Edited by 
John Hamilton Thom. 3 vols, post 8vo. .£1 4s. cloth. 

" This is a book which rivets the at- 
tention, and makes the heart bleed. It 
has, indeed, with regard to himself, in 
its substance, though not in its ar- 
rangement, an almost dramatic cha- 
racter; so clearly and strongly is the 
living, thinking, active man projected 
from the face of the records which he 
has left. 

" His spirit was a battle-field, upon 
which, with fluctuating fortune and sin- 
gular intensity, the powers of belief and 
scepticism waged, from first to last, their 
unceasing war; and within the com- 
pass of his experience are presented to 
our view most of the great moral and 
spiritual problems that attach to the 
condition of our race."— Quarterly Rev. 

" This book will improve his (Blanco 
White's) reputation. There is much in 



" This is a very pleasing little volume, 
which we can confidently recommend. 
It is designed and admirably adapted 
for the use of children from five to 
eleven years of age. It purposes to 
infuse into that tender age some ac- 
quaintance with the facts, and taste 
for the study of the Old Testament. 
The style is simple, easy, and for the 



told in a spirited and graphic manner. 
" Those who are engaged in teaching 
the young, and in laying the founda- 
tion of good character by early reli- 
gious and moral impressions, will be 
thankful for additional resources of a 
kind so judicious as this volume." — 
Inquirer. 



Scenes and Characters, illustrating Christian Truth. 

Edited by the Rev. H. Ware. 2 vols. 18mo. cloth. Reduced to 5s. 

Matins and Vespers j 



With Hymns, and Occasional Devotional Pieces. 
Third Edition, 18mo. cloth, reduced to 2s. 6d. 



" This book is a little gem in its way. 
Of the beautiful devotional poetry it 
contains we need not speak ; it is 
familiar to the lips and to the hearts of 
multitudes. There is a peculiar sweet- 

Sketches of Married Life. 

By Mrs. Follen. Royal 8vo. Is. 4d. 



the peculiar construction of his mind, 
in its close union of the moral with the 
intellectual faculties, and in its restless 
desire for truth, which may remind the 
reader of Doctor Arnold." — Examiner. 

" There is a depth and force in this 
book which tells." — Christian Remem- 
brancer. 

" These volumes have an interest 
beyond the character of Blanco White. 
And beside the intrinsic interest of his 
self-portraiture, whose character is indi- 
cated in some of our extracts, the corre- 
spondence,^ the letters of Lord Holland, 
Southey, Coleridge, Channing, Norton, 
Mill, Professor Powell, Dr. Hawkins, 
and other names of celebrity, has con- 
siderable attractions in itself, without 
any relation to the biographical purpose 
with which itwas published." — Spectator. 

Luther Revived. 

Or, a Short Account- of Johannes Ronge, the Bold Reformer of the Catholic 
Church in Germany. By A. Andresen. 8vo. Is. 

Memoirs of the Life of the Rev. Lant Carpenter, L.L.D. ; 

With Selections from his Correspondence. Edited by his Son, Russell 
Lant Carpenter, B. A. With a portrait. 8 vo. 12s. cloth. 

The Log Cahin $ or the World hefore you. 

By the Author of " Three Experiments of Living," " Sketches of the Old I 
Painters." &c. Is. 6d. paper cover; 2s. cloth; 2s. 6d. extra cloth, gilt edges. 

Stories for Sunday Afternoons, 

From the Creation to the Advent of the Messiah. For the use of Children 
from 5 to 1 1 years of age. By Mrs. George Dawson, (late Miss Susan 
Fanny Crompton.) 16mo, Is. 6d. cloth. 

most part correct. The stories are 



By John Bowring. 



ness and charm in many of the pieces 
which compose the volume that must 
lead a person who has once looked into 
it to wish again and again to recur to ' 
it." — Christian Examiner. 






d by 



The Cwaplete I?'trk8 of the Rev. Onille Dewey, IM>. 

.h. 

The Autobio^r i] h\ ai;d Jusl ideation of J. Rouge. 

[Yau slated u >iu the German, FitiU Edition, by J. Lorp, A.M. (fop. 
lg. 

• \ plain, straiftl tfirward, and manly l career of this remarkable man." ji'csf- 
in of facta <• umected with the | minster ffoview. 

Christianity : tl e Reliveranee of the Soul, and its Life. 

By Wu.i.ivM MoiNTi'OKi*, M.A. Fop Kvo, cloth ; lis. 

lartyria : a Legend. 

Wherein are contained Homilies, Conversations, and Incidents of the Reign 
of Edward the sixth. Written by William Mountford, Clerk. Fcjp. 8vo. 

Cloth : 68. 

The Sick Chamber : a Manual for Nurses. 

!8mo. la. cloth. 

'A small but sensible and useful I and precautions which the chamber of 

treatise, which might be fittingly en- | an invalid requires', but which even 

titled the Sick Room Manual. It is a quick- sighted alleetion does not always 

brief outline of the necessary cares | divine."— Atlas. 

M 'hat is Religion ? The Question Answered. 

By Henry Colman. Fcp 8vo ; Is. 6d. cloth. 

Two Orations against taking 



away Sin man Life, under any 



Circumstances; and in explanation and defence of the misrepresented doc- 
trine of Non-resistance. By Thomas Cooper, Author of " The Purgatory 
of .Suicides." Post 8vo. Is. in paper cover. 



" Mr. Cooper possesses undeniable 
abilities of no mean order, and moral 
courage beyond many The man- 
liness with which he avows, and the 
boldness and zeal with wliieli he urges, 
the doctrines of peace and love, respect 
for human rights, and moral power, 
in these Lectures, are worthy of all 
honour." Nonconformist. 

" An-. Cooper's style is intensely clear 

and forcible, and displays great 

jtnesfi and line human sympathy; 



it is in the highest degree manly, plain, 
and vigorous." — Mottling Advertiser. 

" These two orations are thoroughly 
imbued with the peace doctrines which 
have lately been maMng rapid progress 
in many unexpected quarters. To all 
who take an interest in that great 
movement, we would recommend this 
book, on account of the fervid elo- 
quence and earnest truthfulness which 
pervades every line of it." — Manchester 
Examiner. 



The Truth Seeker in Literature, Philosophy, and Religion. 

Devoted to free and Catholic enquiry, and to theTranscendental and Spirit- 
ual Philosophy of the Age. New Series, Published Quarterly, Price 2s. 

Livermore's Commentary on the Four Gospels. 

. <><\. cloth. 

The Prospective Review. 

A Quarterly .Journal of Theology and Literature. 

JUsjjicc., A spice, I'kosj-jci;.— St. Bernard. 

" 'I ii\ i. REVIEW is devoted to a free TheoLogt, and the moral 

tool Literatdbb. Under the conviction thai lingering influences from the 

ine ol verbal in piration are not only depriving the primitive records of the 

Gospel of their true interpretation, but even destroying faith in Christianity it- 



John C'liipmiui, 142, Slruiiii '. 



13 



self, the Work is conducted in thr <•,, midline thai only a living mind and heart, 
not in bondage to any letter, can ricei^e the living spirit of Revelation ; and in the • 
fervent belief that for all such there is a true Gospel of God, which no critical or 
historical speculation can discredit or destroy, it aim- to i iterprel and repi 
Spiritual < 'hristianit y, in its character of the Universal Religion, Fully adopting 

the sentiment of Coleridge, that 4 t lie exercise of the reasoning and refl< 

power-, increasing insights and enlarging views, are requisite to keep alive the 

substantial faith of the heart.'— with a grateful appreciation of the labours of 
faithful predecessors of all Churches, it esteems it the part of a true reverence 
not to rest in their conclusions, but to think and live in t heir spirit, liy the name 
' PbOSPECTIVB REVIEW*' it is intended to lay no claim to Di.-covery, but simply 
to express the desire and the attitude of Progress; to suggest continually the Duty 
of using Past and Present as a trust for the Future ; and openly t<> disown the 
idolatrous Conservatism, of whatever sect, which makes Christianity but a lifeless 
formula."— Extract from the Prospectus. 

No. XYII. was published on the 1st of February, 1849. Trice 2s. 'id. 

Works for Review to be sent to the Publisher or Editors; Advertisements in 
all cases to the Publisher. 

The Evidences of the Genuineness of the Gospels. 

By Andrews Norton, Professor of Sacred Literature, Harvard University, 

Massachusetts. 2 vols. 8vo. jfiT cloth. 
*** There are about fifty pages of new matter in the first volume, and this 
edition of the work embodies throughout various alterations and corrections 
made by the author at the present time. 

The Work consists of three Parts, as follows i — 

PART I. 

Proof that the Gospels remain Essentially the same as they were 

originally composed 

PART II. 

Historical Evidence that the Gospels have been Ascrip.ed to their 

True Authors. 

PART III. 

On the Evidences for the Genuineness of the Gospels afforded by 
the Early Heretics. 

The very copious Notes appended to each volume constitute about half the 
amount of the entire work, the principal subjects of which are as follows :— 

CONTENTS OF THE NOTES. 



Note I.— Further remarks on the 
present state cf the Text of the Gos- 
pels. 

Note II. — Various readings of the 
copies of the gospels extant in the time 
of Origen, which are particularly 
noticed by him. 

Note III— Undisputedlnterpolations 
in Manuscripts of the Gospels. 

Note IV.— On the Origin of the Cor- 
respondences among the first three 
Gospels. 

Note V.— Justin Martyr's Quota- 
tions. 

Note VI.— On the Writings ascribed 
to Apostolical Fathers. 

Note VII.— On the Statue which is 
said by Justin Martyr, and others, to 
have been erected at Rome to Simon 
Magus. 



Note VIII.— On the Clementine 
Homilies. 

IS'ote IX— On the false Charges 
brought against the Heretics, parti- 
cularly by the later Fathers. 

Note X. — On the Jewish Dispensa- 
tion, Pentateuch, and the other books 
of the Old Testament. 

Note XT.- On the Distinction made 
by the Ancients between 'filings Intel- 
ligible and Things Sensible ; on the use 
of the Terms Spiritual and Material, as 
applied to their Speculations; and on 
the nature of Matter. 

Note XII.— On Basilides and the 
Basili dians. 

Note XIII.— On the Gospel of Mar- 
cion. 

Note XIV.— On the use of word? 
©EOS and DELS. 



14 



Work* published by 



NOTICES OF THE WORK. 



•• rrot'e-sor Norton has devoted a 

whole volume full of ingenious reason- 

log and solid learning, to show that the 
Gnostic sorts of the second century Ad- 
mitted In general the same sacred books 
with the orthodox Christians. How- 
ever doubtful may he his complete sne- 
he has made out a strong case, 
which, as far as it goes, is one of the 
most valuable confutations of the ex- 
treme German x w f'C 0VTIf > an excellent 
subsidiary contribution to the proof of 
the ' genuineness of the Scriptures.' * * * 
His work on the Genuineness of the 
Scriptures is of a high intellectual 
order."— Quarterly Review, March, 1846. 

M This (the 2nd and 3rd volumes) is a 
great work upon the philosophy of the 
early history of our faith, and upon the 
relations of that faith with the religious 
systems and the speculative opinions 
which then formed the belief or engaged 
the attention of the whole civilized 
world. The subject is one of vast com- 
pass and great importance; and for- 
tunately it has been examined with 
much thoroughness, caution, and inde- 
pendence. The conclusions arrived at 
are those of one who thinks for himself, 
—not created by early prepossessions, 
nor restricted within the narrow limits 
of opinions peculiar to any school or 
sect. The originality and good sense of 
Mr. Norton's general remarks impress 
the reader quite as strongly as the accu- 
racy of his scholarship, and the wide 
range of learning with which the subject 
is illustrated. His mind is neither 
cumbered nor confused by the rich store 
of its acquisitions, but works with the 
greatest clearness and effect when en- 
gaged in the most discursive and far- 
reaching investigations. 

" A great portion of the work, indeed, 
belongs to ecclesiastical history; but it 
does not deal with the men and the 
events of that history, it relates almost 
exclusively to thoughts and theories. 
It analyzes systems of philosophy; it 
examines creeds ; it traces the changes 
and the influences of opinions. Nearly 



the whole of the work, U the German 
would say, belongs to the history of 
'pure reason.' The originality of Mr. 
Norton's views is one of their most 
striking characteristics. He does not 
deem it necessary, as too many theo- 
logians have done, to defend the records 
of his faith by stratagem. The conse- 
quence is, that his work is one of the 
most unanswerable books that ever was 
written. It comes as near to demon- 
stration as the nature of moral reason- 
ing will admit. 

" As an almost unrivalled monument 
of patience and industry, of ripe scho- 
larship, thorough research, eminent 
ability, and conscientious devotion to 
the cause of truth, the work may well 
claim respectful consideration. The 
reasoning is eminently clear, simple, 
and direct ; and abounds with the re- 
sults of the most profound learning." — 
North Atnerican Review. 

" The first volume of this work was 
published so long ago as the year 1837. 
At the close of it the author announces 
his intention to pursue the argument, 
by inquiring into the evidence to be 
derived from the testimony of the 
different heretical Sects. It is to this 
part of the subject that the second and 
third volumes, now before us, are 
directed, — which are evidently the 
fruit of much labour, research, and 
extensive reading ; and contain a 
variety of very curious incidental mat- 
ter, highly interesting to the student of 
ecclesiastical history, and of the human 
mind. 

" There are many interesting and cu- 
rious discussions of an incidental nature. 
Among these we may particularly spe- 
cify the remarks on the character of the 
ancient philosophy in the third volume, 
and a very curious note in the appendix 
to the same volume, on the distinctions 
made by the ancients between things 
Intelligible and things Sensible, and on 
the nature of Matter.— Prospective Re- 



John Chapman, 142, Strand. 



15 



Cf)e Catbolir Series** 



The Publisher of " The Catholic Series" intends it to 
consist of Works of a liberal and comprehensive character, 
judiciously selected, embracing various departments of literature. 

An attempt has been made by the Church of Rome to realize 
the idea of Catholicism — at least in form — and with but a 
partial success; an attempt will now be made to restore 
the word Catholic to its primitive significance, in its appli- 
cation to this Series, and to realize the idea of Catholicism 
in spirit. 

It cannot be hoped that each volume of the Series will be 
essentially Catholic, and not partial, in its nature, for 
nearly all men are partial ; — the many-sided and impartial, 
or truly Catholic man, has ever been the rare exception 
to his race. Catholicity may be expected in the Series, 
not in every volume composing it. 

An endeavour will be made to present to the Public 
a class of books of an interesting and thoughtful nature, 
and the authors of those of the Series which may be of a 
philosophical character will probably possess little in com- 
mon, except a love of intellectual freedom and a faith in 
human progress; they will be united rather by sympathy of 
spirit than by agreement in speculation. 

* For List of Works already published in the series, see pages 17 to 24. 









'■It/'// 



CHARACTERIZATION OP THE CATHOLIC SERIES 
BY THE PRESS. 



•' The various works composing the '1 Calholic Series," should be known lo 
all lovers of literature,, and may be recommended as calculated to instruct and 
elevate bj the proposition 6f noble aims and tin* inculcation of noble Irullis, 
furuishing reflective an^ cultivated minds with more wholesome food than the 
nauseous irash which the popular tale-Writers of the day set before theft 
readers." — Morning ( In-oim-lc. 

"Too much encouragement cannol be given to enterprising publications 
like the present. They are directly in the teeth of popular prejudice and 
popular trash. They are addressed to the higher class of readers those who 
think as well as read. They are works at, which ordinary publishers shudder 
as k unsaleable,' but which are really capable of finding a very large public." 
— Foreign Quarterly, 

" The works already published embrace a greal variety of subjects, and 
display a grefei variety of talent. They are not exclusively nor even chiefly 
religions ; and they are from the pens of German, French, American, as well 
a- lliiLilish authors. Without reference to the opinion which they contain, we 
may safely say that they are generally such as all men of free and philoso- 
phical minds would do well to know and ponder. —Nvncokjormist, 

" This series deserves attention, both for what it has already given, and for 
what it promises." — Taifs Magazine. 

" A series not intended to represent or maintain a form of opinion, but to 
bring together some of the works which do honour to our common nature, 
by the genius they display, or by their ennobling tendency and lofty aspira- 
tions. — Inquirer, 

"It is hi-iily creditable to Mr. Chapman to find his name in connexion 
wiili bo much well-directed enterprise in the cause of German literature and 
philosophy, lie is the first publisher w r ho seems to have proposed to himself 
the worthy abject of introducing the English reader to the philosophic mind 
of Germany, uninfluenced by the tradesman's distrust of the marketable hature 
of the article. It is a \ cry praiseworthy ambition; and we trust the public 
will justify his confidence. Nothing could be more unworthy than the at- 
tempt to di-courage. and indeed punish, such unselfish enterprise, by attaching 
a bad reputation for orthodoxy to every thing connected with German philo- 
sophy and theology; This is especially unworthy in the 'student,' or the 
' scholar,' to borrow I'ichto's names, who should disdain to set themselves the 
task of exciting 1 , by their friction, a popular prejudice and clamour on matters 
on which the populace are no competent judges, and have, indeed, no judgment 
of their own, — and who should feel, as men themselves devoted to thought, 
that what mal < - a good book is not that it should gain its reader's acquiescence, 

;-t it should multiply his mental experience'; that it should acquaint him 
with the ideas which philosophers and scholars, reared by a training different 
from their own, have laboriously reached and devoutly entertain; that, in a 
word, it should enlarge his materials and his sympathies as a man and a 
thinker."— "Prospective* Ueview. 

of serious and manly publications." — Economist. 



John Chapman, 142, Strand. 



17 



Z\)t ©atfjoltc j&edc*. 



Memoir of Johann (xottlieh Fichte. 

By William Smith. Second edition, enlarged. Tost 8vo, cloth, 4s. Gd 



" A Life of Fichte, full of 

nobleness and instruction, of grand 
purpose, tender feeling, and brave effort; 
the compilation of which is exe- 
cuted with great judgment and fideli- 
ty."— Prospective Review. 

" The material trials that Fichte en- 
countered in the body are lost sight of 
in the spiritual contest which he main- 
tained with his OAvn mind. The page 
that keeps the record of incidents is 
dignified throughout by the strong 
moral light that falls everywhere upon 
it, like a glory, and sweetened by a 
hwing episode that flows through its 
dark and bright places like a stream of 
music." — Athenceum. 

The Vocation of the Scholar. 



" We state Fichte's character as it is 
known and admitted by men of all 
parties among the Germans, when we 
say that so robust an intellect, a soul so 
calm, so lofty, massive, and Immove- 
able, has not mingled in philosohpical 
discussion since the time of Luther... 

Fichte's opinions may be true 

or false; but his character as a thinker 
can be slightly valued only by such as 
know it ill ; and as a man, approved by 
action and suffering, in his life and in 
his death, he ranks with a class of men 
who were common only in better ages 
than ours." — State of German Litera- 
ture, by Thomas Carlyle. 



By Johann Gottlieb Fichte. Translated from the German, by William 
Smith. Post 8vo. cloth, 2s. ; paper cover, Is. 6d. 



" ' The Vocation of the Scholar' — is 
distinguished by the same high moral 
tone, and manly, vigorous expression 
which characterize all Fichte's works 
in the German, and is nothing lost in 
Mr. Smith's clear, unembarrassed, and 
thoroughly English translation. " — 
Douglas JerrolaVs Newspaper. 

" We are glad to see this excellent 
translation of one of the best of 



Fichte's works presented to the public 

in a very neat form No class needs 

an earnest and sincere spirit more than 
the literary class ; and, therefore the 
'Vocation of the Scholar,' the 'Guide 
of the Human llace,' written in Fichte's 
most earnest, most commanding tem- 
per, will be welcomed in its English 
dress by public writers, and be benefi- 
cial to the cause of truth." — Economist. 



On the Nature of the Scholar^ and its Manifestations. 

By Johann Gottlieb Fichte. Translated from the German by Wil- 
liam Smith. Second Edition. Post 8vo. cloth, 3s. Gd. 



" With great satisfaction we welcome 
this first English translation of an 
author who occupies the most exalted 
position as a profound and original 
thinker; as an irresistible orator in the 
cause of what he believed to be truth : 
as a thoroughly honest and heroic man. 

The appearance of any of his 

works in our language is, we believe, a 

perfect novelty These orations 

are admirably fitted for their purpose ; 
so grand is the position taken by t\e 
lecturer, and so irresistible their elo- 
quence." — Examiner. 

" A pure and exalted morality and 
deep religious feeling breathes throug- 

The Vocation of Man. 

By Johann Gottlieb Fichte. Translated from the German, by Wil- 
liam Smith. Fost 8vo, cloth, 4s. Gd. 
" In the progress of my present work, | the emotions; of the heart proceed only 
I have taken a deeper glance into re- I from perfect intellectual clearness ;— it 
llgion than ever I did before. In me | cannot be but that the clearness 1 have 



out the whole."— Irish Monthly Mag- 
azine. 

•'This work must inevitably arrest the 
attention of the scientific physician, by 
the grand spirituality of its doctrines, 

and the pure morality it teaches 

Shall we be presumptuous if We recom- 
mend these views to our professional 
brethren? or if we say to the enligh- 
tened, the thoughtful, the serious, This 
—if you be true Scholars — is your 
Vocation? We know not a higher mo- 
rality than this, or more noble principles 
than these: they are full of truth." — 
British and Eo reign Medico-Chirurgical 
Eieview. 



IS 



Works published by 



THE CATHOLIC SERIES — (t'O/lt hi UC(l.) 



now attained on this subject shall also 
take possession of my heart. "— Fichtc's 

" • 1 m: Vocation of Man' is, as 
Fichte truly says, intelligible to all 
readers who are really able to un- 
derstand a book at all ; and as the His- 
tory of the mind in its various phases of 
doubt, knowledge, and faith, it is of 
interest to all. A book of this stamp is 
sure to teach you much, because it ex- 
cites thought. If it rouses you to com- 
bat his conclusions, it has done a good 



work ; for in that very effort you are 
stirred to a consideration of points 
which have hitherto escaped your in- 
dolent acquiescence." — Ford gn Qua?- 

tcrlij. 

"'This is Fichtc's most popular work, 
and is every way remarkable."- -Atlas. 

" It appears to us the boldest and 
most emphatic attempt that has yet 
been made to explain to man his rest 
less and unconquerable desire to win 
the True and the Eternal."— Sentinel, 



The Characteristics of the Present Age. 



By Johann Gottlieb Fichte. 

Smith, l'uit 8vo. cloth, 7s. 

"A noble and most notable acquisi- 
tion to the literature of England." — 
Douglas J err old's Weekly Paper. 

" We accept these lectures as a true 
and most admirable delineation of the 
present age ; and on this ground alone 
we should bestow on them our heartiest 
recommendation ; but it is because they 
teach us how we may rise above the age 
that we bestow on them our most 
emphatic praise. 



Translated from the German, by William 

"He makes us think, and perhaps 
more sublimely than we have ever for- 
merly thought, but it is only in order 
that we may the more nobly act. 

"As a majestic and most stirring 
utterance from the lips of the greatest 
German prophet, we trust that the 
book will find a response in many an 
English soul, and potently help to re- 
generate English Society."— The Critic. 



The Popular Works of Johann Gottlieb Fichte, 

Post 8vo, cloth, 12s. per volume. 

Contents of Vol. I.:— 1. Memoir of the Author, by William Smith. 

2. The Vocation of the Scholar. 3. The Nature of the Scholar. 

4. The Vocation of Man. 

Contents of Vol. II. :— 1. The Characteristics of the Present Age. 

2. The Way towards the Blessed Life; or, the Doctrine of Ke- 

ligion. 

The \} ay towards the Blessed Life 5 or, The Doctrine of Religion. 

Translated by William Smith. Post 8vo, cloth. 

Characteristics of Men of Genius $ 

A Series of Biographical, Historical, and Critical Essays, selected by per- 
mission, chiefly from the North American Review, with Preface, by John 
Chapman. 2 vols, post 8vo. cloth, 12s. ; extra cloth, gilt edges, 14s. 

CONTENTS. 

GBXOOBT VII., Loyola, Pascal. 

Dabte, Petrarch, Shelley, Byron, Gokthe, Wordsworth, 

.Milton, Scott, The GERMAN Poets. 
Michael AnGELO, CANOVA. 

Machiavelli, Louis IX., Peter the Great. 

" Essays of very high order, which literature of any country." — Westmin- 

frorn their novelty, and their intrinsic sier Review. 

value, we are sure will receive from the " Essays of great power and interest. 

British public a reception cornmen- In freedom of opinion, and occa- 

ntrate with their meritH They are sionally in catholicity ol judgment, the 

which would do honour to the writers are superior to our own period}- 



John Chapman, 142, Strand. 



19 



the catholic series — continued. 



treatment requires pains, a larger and 
more liberal spirit than is often found 
in Transatlantic literature, and some- 
times a marked and forcible style."— 
Spectator. 

11 A work that will be right welcome 
to all lovers of literature, and which 
ought to be ordered by every book- 
club."— Critic. 

" There is hardly one of these papers 
that has not great merit."— Inquirer. 

" This is truly a delightful book. We 
heartily welcome it as worthy to take 
its stand by the side of the ■ Contri- 
butions' of our own great reviewers. 
Each essay, having for its object the 
development of the characteristics of 
one mind, is complete in itself, and 
almost perfect in the elegance and 
beauty of its execution." — Nonconform. 

" The value, both intrinsic and ex- 
trinsic, of these essays justly claims for 
them a favourable reception and atten- 
tive perusal in England."— Manchester 
Examiner. 



cal essayists ; but we think there is less 
brilliancy and point in them ; though 
on that very account there is, perhaps, 
greater impartiality and justice." — 
Douglas Jerrold's Magazine. 

"Rich as we are in this delightful 
department of Literature, we gladly 
accept another contribution to critical 

biography The American writers 

keep more closely to their text than our 
own reviewers, and are less solicitous to 
construct a theory of their own, and 
thereby run the risk of discolouring the 
facts of history, than to take a calm 
and dispassionate survey of events and 
opinions." — Morning Chronicle. 

** Essays well worthy of an European 
Life." — Christian Reformer. 

" The collection before us is able and 
readable, with a good deal of interest 
in its subjects. They exhibit force, just- 
ness of remark, an acquaintance with 
their subject, beyond the. mere book 
reviewed ; much clear-headed pains- 
taking in the paper itself, where the 

The Worship of Genius $ 

Being an Examination of the Doctrine announced by D. F. Strauss, viz. 
" That to our A^e of Religious Disorganization nothing is left but a Worship 
of Genius ; that is, a Reverence ior those great Spirits who create Epochs in 
the Progress of the Human Race, and in whom, taken collectively, the God- 
like manifests itself to us most fully," and thus having reference to the views 
unfolded in the work entitled, " Heroes and Hero-worship" by Thomas Carlyle. 

AND 

The Distinctive Character or Essence of Christianity : 

An Essay relative to Modern Speculations and the present State of Opinion. 
Translated, from the German of Prof. C. Ullmann, by Lucy Sanford. 1 vol. 
post 8vo. 3s. 6d. 

CONTENTS. 

1. General view of the object of the 

work. 

2. The different stages of development 

through which Christianity itself 
has passed. The same phases 
perceptible in the views which 
nave been successively taken of it. 

3. Christianity as Doctrine. Under 

this head are comprised both 
Supernaturalism and Natu- 
ralism. 

4. Christianity as a Moral Law. The 

philosophy of Kant. Ration- 
alism. 

5. Christianity as the Religion of Re- 

demption. Schleiermacher's de- 
finition. 



C. The peculiar significance and in- 
fluence of Christ's individual 
character. 

7. The views of Hegel and his school. 

8. Christ as the exemplification of the 
union of the Divine and Human 
in one character. 

9. Importance of this truth for the de- 
finition of the distinctive Charac- 
ter of Christianity. 

10. Christianity as the Perfect Religion. 

1 1 . Inferences from the preceding. 

12. Retrospect and epitome of the 
argument. 

13. Application of the preceding to the 
idea of Faith. 

14. Application to the Church. 



f The above two works are comprised in one volume, post 8vo. 3s. 6d. cloth. 



" There are many just and beautiful 
conceptions expressed and developed, 
and the mode of utterance and illustra- 
tion is more clear and simple than that 
adopted often by our German brethren 
in treating such topics."— Nonconformist. 



" There is in it much important and 
original thought. Intelligent British 
Christians, who are inclined to take 
philosophical views of the Christian 
faith, will find much to delight and in- 
struct them."— Baptist Magazine. 






Workt published by 



nil. CATHOLIC SERIES (continued.) 

Tito life of Joan Paul lr. Rkhter. 

npiled from various sources, Together with his Autobiography. Transla- 
ted irnm t ho (icnnaii. 2 vols. paper COVer, 7s^ cloth, Ss. 

" The autobiography of EUchter,,whien 
extends onlj to his twelfth year, is one 

most interesting studies of a true 
poet's childhood ever given to the 
world." /.•-'/-, \ Edinburgh Mhgazine, 

" Etichter has an intellect vehement, 
ragged, irresistible, crushing in pieces 
the hardest problems; piercing Into the 
most hidden combinations or things, 
and grasping the most distant; an 
imagination vague, sombre, splendid, 
o<: i ppalling, brooding over the abysses 
of being, wj Bering through infinitude, 
and summon ag before ns, in its dim 
religious li£ht, shapes of brilliancy, 

oity, el - terror; a fancy of exu- 
berance " literally unexampled, for it 
pours its treasures with a lavishness 
which knows no limit, hanging, like 
the sun, a jewel on every grass-blade, 
and sowing the earth at large with 
orient pearls. But deeper than all 

lies humour, the ruling quality 
of Pichter — as it were the central lire 
that pervades and vivifies his whole 
being. He is a humorist from his in- 
most spur; he thinks as a humorist; he 
imagines, acts, feels as a humorist: 
Sport is the element in which his 
nature lives ami works." — Thomas 
( 'Ai.'LYLE. 

" With such a w r riter it is no common 
treat to be intimately acquainted. In 
the proximity of great and virtuous 
minds vre imbibe n portion of their na- 
ture feel 1 , as mesmerists say, a health- 
ful contagion, are braced with the same 
spirit of faith, hope, and patient en- 
durance -are furnished with data for 
clearing lip and workitig out the intri- 
cate problem of life, and are inspired, 
like them, with the prospect of immor- 
tality. NO reader of sensibility can rise 

from the perusal of these volumes with- 
out becoming both wiser and better." — 
Alius. 

" \Ve find in the present biography 

much that does not so much amuse 

and instruct, as, to adopt a phrase from 

ligious world, positively eddies the 

i in: lde of Pichter is indeed 

>ral and a religious, ai much as a 

it. to all who have a 
ised to di cern religion and moral- 
-entiaiiy different from 
mere prthodoxy and a 'J he 

tWO volume- hef'ore us cannot he SC* 

i, read without stimulating the 
ler, iike a good sermon, t > .^elf-ame- 
lioration, and in this respect they are 
Invaluable. 

" Richter is a thorough Christian, and 
a Christian with alarge glowing human 



heart. The appearance of his bio- Taphy 
in an English form cannot, therefore, 

but be regarded as a great boon to the 

best interests of the country." Tait*ti 
Magaxine. 

" Apart from the interest of the work, 
as the life of Jean Paul, the reader 
learns Something of German life and 
German 'thought, and Is introduced to 
Weimar during its most distinguished 
period when Goethe, Schiller, Herder, 

and Wieland, the ureal fixed stars of 
(.ermany, in conjunction with dean 
Paul, were there, surrounded by beau- 
tiful and admiring women, of the most 
refined and exalted natures, and of 
princely rank. It is full of passages so 
attractive and valuable that it is diffi- 
cult to make a selection as examples of 
its character." — inquirer. 

" This book will be found very valu- 
able as an introduction to the study of 
one of the most eccentric and dillicult 
writers of Germany. Jean Paul's writ- 
ings are so much the reflex of Jean Paul 
himself, that every light that shines 
upon the one inevitably illumines the 
other. The work is a useful exhibition 
of a great and amiable man, who, pos- 
sessed of the kindliest feelings; and the 
most brilliant fantasy, turned to a high 
purpose that humour of which Rabelais 
is the' great grandfather, and Sterne one 
of the line of ancestors, and contrasted 
it with an exaltation of feeling and a 
rhapsodical poetry which are entirely 
his own. Let us hope that it will com- 
plete the work begun by Mr. Carlyle's 
Kssays, and cause Jean I'aul to be really 
read in this country." — Exuminer. 

" Pichter is exhibited in a most ami- 
able light in this biography— industri- 
ous, frugal, benevolent, with a child-like 
simplicity of character, and a heart 
overflowing with the purest love. His 
letters to his wife are beautiful memo- 
rials of true affection, and the way in 
which he perpetually speaks of his chil- 
dren shows that he was the most at- 
tached and indulgent of fathers. Who- 
ever came within the sphere of hap com- 
panionship appears to have contracted 
an affection, for biro that death only 
dissolved: and while his name was re- 
sounding through (jicrmany, he re- 
mained as meek and bumble as if he 
had still been an unknown adventurer 
on Parnassus."- The Approntir, . 

" The life of Jean Paid is a charming 
piece of biography which draws and 
rivets J;he attention. The affections of 
the reader are fixed on the hero with an 
intensity rarely bestowed on an his- 



John Chapman, 142, Strand. 



21 



THE CATHOLIC SERIES — (continued.) 



torical character. It is impossible to 
read this biography without a convic- 
tion of its integrity' and truth; and 
though Ritcher's style is more difficult 
of translation than that of any other 



German, yet we feel that his golden 
thoughts have reached us pure from the 
mine, to which he hasgiven that impress 
of genius which makes them current in 
all countries." — Christian Reformer. 



The Mental History of an Inquiring Spirit. 

A Biography of Charles Elwood. By O. A. Brownson. 
3s. Gd. paper cover. 



Tost 8vo. 4s. cloth ; 



" This work is an attempt to pre- 
sent Cluistianity so that it shall satisfy 
the philosophic element of our nature. 
In this consists its peculiar merit and 
its distinctive characteristic. Such a 
book was certainly very much needed. 
We have no doubt that it will add many 
a doubter to a cheerful faith, and con- 
firm many a feeble mind in the faith it 
has already professed. Mr. Brownson 
addresses the philosophic element, and 
the men in whom this element is pre- 
dominant ; and, of course, he presents 
the arguments that would be the most 
striking and satisfactory to this class of 
men. In so far as he ha^ succeeded, he 
must be considered to have done a meri- 
torious work. We think Mr. Brownson 
eminently qualified for this task, and 
that his success is complete. The work 
will, doubtless, be the means of giving 
composure and serenity to the faith of 
many who are as yet weak in the faith, 
or halting between two opinions." — 
Christian Examiner. 

"Ina series of chapters, Mr. Morton 
explains the nature of the Christian 
faith, and replies to the objections 
raised by Elwood as the discussion pro- 
ceeds, and the argument we take to be 
conclusive, though of course every one 
may differ as to details. The mighty 
theme is handled in a most masterly 
style, and the reasoning may fairly be 
called 'mathematical.' There is nei- 
ther rant nor cant, hypothesis or dog- 
matism. Christ ianity is proved to be 
a ' rational religious system,' and the 
priest is exhibited in his true character. 



We can cordially recommend the vo- 
lume, after a very careful perusal, to the 
layman who desires to think lor him- 
self, and to the clergy, as eminently 
calculated to enlarge their views and 
increase their usefulness, by showing 
them the difference between sectarian- 
ism and Christianity." — Sentinel. 

" The purposes, in this stage of his 
progress, which Mr. Brownson has in 
view are, the vindication of the reality of 
the religious principle in the nature of 
man ; the existence of an order of senti- 
ments higher than the calculations of 
the understanding and the deductions 
of logic ; the foundation of morals on 
the absolute idea of right in opposition 
to the popular doctrine of expediency ; 
the exposition of a spiritual philosophy ; 
and the connexion of Christianity with 
the progress of society. 

" The work presents the most profound 
ideas in a simple and attractive form. 
The discussion of these principles, 
which in their primitive abstraction are 
so repulsive to most minds, is carried 
on, through the medium of a slight fic- 
tion, with considerable dramatic effect. 
AVe become interested in the final 
opinions of the subjects of the tale, as 
we do in the catastrophe of a romance. 
A slender thread of narrative is made 
to sustain the most weighty arguments 
on the philosophy of religion ; but the 
conduct both of the story and of the 
discussion is managed with so much 
skill, that they serve" to relieve and for- 
ward each other."— Dial. 



The Mission of the German Catholics. 

By Prof. G. G. Gervinus, Author of the " Geschichte der Poetischen 
Nation al-Literatur der Deutschen." Post 8vo. Is. 4d. 

"This work well deserves an intro- 
duction to an English public. It con- 
tains the reflections of a German philo- 
sopher on the extraordinary religious 
movement which is now agitating his 
countrymen; his anticipations, and his 
wishes respecting its results "-^Inquirer. 
In an article upon the Author's 
"History of the Poetical Literature of 
the Germans," the North American 



Review says : — " He exhibits the ex- 
tensive and profound erudition, the 

historical faculty of bringing past and 
remote states of society near, and pro- 
jecting the present into the distance; 
and the philosophical insight into the 
distinguishing features of individuals, 
communities, and epochs, which so 
favourably characterize the recent his- 
toriography of the Germans.*' 






Wort* published by 



Tin; CATHOLIC BERIE8 — (continued.) 

The Philosophical and Esthetic Letters and Kssays of Schiller. 

Translated, with an introduction, by J, Weiss. Post 8vo. 7s. 6d. cloth. 

morally free, hence not responsible, as 
there is no sphere for the operation of 

the will. 

" The style in which the .whole volume 
is written is particularly beautiful, there 
is a consciousness of music in every page 
We read; it it remarkable fbr the con- 
densation of thought and linu consist- 
ency which prevails throughout; and. 
so far as we are able to judge, the 
translation is admirably and faithfully 
rendered. The twenty-seven letters 
upon the '^Esthetic Culture of Man,' 
form the most prominent, and by far 
the most valuable, portion of the work ; 
they will be found full of interest and 
the choicest riches, which will abund- 
antly repay any amount of labour 
bestowed upon them."— Ingtwrer. 

" This is a book which demands and 
deserves study. Either to translate or 
to appreciate it requires a somewhat 
peculiar turn of mind. Not that any 
body could read it without profit, but to 
gain from it all that it is capable oi 
yielding, there must be some aptitude 
for such studies, and some training in 

them too To be appreciated 

it must be studied, and the study 
will be well repaid." — Christian Ex- 
aminer. 

" Here we must close, unwillingly, 
this volume, so abounding in food for 
thought, so fruitful of fine passages, 
heartily commending it to all of our 
readers who desire to make acquaint- 
ance with the philosophy of art. The 
extracts we have taken will prove what 
a treasure is here, for they are but a 
fraction of the gems that are to be 
gathered in every page. We make no 
apology for having so long lingered over 
this book; for, albeit, philosophy is 
somewhat out of fashion in our age of 
materialism, it yet will find its votaries, 
lit though few; and even they who care 
not for the higlier regions of reflection, 
cannot fail to reap infinite pleasure 
from the eloquent and truthful passages 
we have sought to cull for their mingled 
delight and edification." — Critic. 



" Cheae Letters stand unequalled in 

the department of -Esthetics, and are BO 
esteemed even in Germany, which is bo 

fruitful upon that topic. Schiller is 
(in-many - .- be>t .Est bet ieian, and these 
letters contain the highest moments of 

Schiller. Whether we desire rigorous 
logical investigation or noble poetic ex- 
pression, whether we wish to stimulate 

the intellect or inflame the heart we 

need seek no further than these. They 
are trophies won from an unpopular, 
metaphysical form, by a lofty, inspiring, 
and absorbing subject." — Introduction. 

"It is not possible, in a brief notice 
like the present, to do more than inti- 
mate the kind of excellence of a book 
of this nature. It is a profound and 
beautiful dissertation, ami must be dili- 
gently studied to be comprehended. 
A fter all the innumerable efforts that the 
present age has been sometime making 
to cut a Koyal road to everything, it is 
beginning to find that what sometimes 
seems the longest way round is the 
shortest way home ; and if there be a 
desire to have truth, the only way is to 
work at the windlass one's self, and 
bring up the buckets by the labour of 
one's own good arm. Whoever works 
at the present well, will find ample 
reward lor the labour they may bestow 
on it; the truths he will draw up are 
universal and from that pure elemen- 
tary fountain 'that maketh wise he that 
drinketh thereat.'" — Douglas JerroWs 
yiaisazine. 

" It is difficult, if not impossible, to 
give a brief, and at the same time faith- 
ful, summary of the ideas affirmed by 
Schiller in this volume. Its aim is to 
develop the ideal of humanity, and to 
define the successive steps which must 
be trodden to attain it. Its spirit 
aspires after human improvment, and 
to indicate the. nutans of realiza- 
tion. Schiller insists upon the necessi- 
ty of aesthetic culture as preliminary to 
moral culture, and in order to make 
the latter ] OSSible. According to the 
doctrine here set forth, until man is 
a-thetically developed, he cannot be 

The Philosophy of Art. 

An Oration on the Relation of the I 

the German of v . w. J. von Bohj 

paper cover ; \r. <>d. cloth. 

"Tlii-: excellent oration is an appli- 
cation to art of Sclielling's general 
philosophic principles. 8ch el ling takes 
the bold course, and declares that what 
Ijnarily called nature is not the 

Summit Of perfection, but is only the 



lastic Arts to Nature. Translated from 
lung, by A. Johnson. Tost 8vo. Is. 

Inadequate manifestation of a high 
idea, which it is the office of man to 

f>enetrate. The true astronomer is not 
ic who notes down laws and causes 
Which v/ere never revealed to sensuous 
organs, and which are often opposed to. 



John Chapman , 142, Strand. 



23 



THE CATHOLIC SERIES — (c 071 1 billed.) 



the prima facie influences of sensuous 
observers. The true artist is not lie who 
merely imitates an isolated object in 
nature, but he who can penetrate into 
the unseen essence that lurks behind 
the visible crust, and afterwards re- 
produce it in a visible form. In the 
surrounding world means and ends are 
clashed and jarred together ; in the 
work of art the heterogenous is ex- 
cluded, and an unity is attained not to 
be found elsewhere. Schelling, in his 
oration, chiefly, not exclusively, regards 
the arts of painting and sculpture ; but 

Essays. By R. W. Emerson. 



his remarks will equally apply to 
others, such as poetry and music. This 
oration of Schelling's deserves ail exten- 
sive perusal. The translation, with the 
exception of a few trifling inaccurrcies, 
is admirably done by Mr. .Johnson; 
and we know of no work in oiu-language 
better suited to give a notion of the turn 
which German philosophy to -k after it 
abandoned the subjectivity of K ant and 
Fichte. The notion will, of course;, be 
a faint one; but it is something to know 
the latitude and longitude of a mental 
position." — Examiner. 



(Second Series.) With a Notice by Thomas Carlyle. 
3s. 6d. cloth. 



3s. paper cover 



"Among the distinguishing features 
of Christianity — we are ready to say the 
distinguishing feature— is its humanity, 
its deep sympathy with human kind, 
and its strong advocacy of human wants 
and rights. In this particular, few 
have a better title to be ranked among 
the followers of Jesus than the author 
of this book." — American Christian Ex- 
aminer. 

" The difficulty we find in giving a 
proper notice of this volume, arises 
from the pervadingness of its excellence, 
and the compression of its matter. 
With more learning than Hazlitt, more 
perspicuity than Carlyle, more vigour 
and depth of thought than Addison, and 
with as much originality and fascination 
as any of them, this volume is a bril- 
liant addition to the Table Talk of in- 
tellectual men, be they who or where 
they may." — Prospective Review. 

" Mr. Emerson is not a common man, 
and everything he writes contains sug- 
gestive matter of much thought and 
earnestness." — Examiner. 

" That Emerson is, in a high degree, 
possessed of the faculty and vision of 
the seer, none can doubt who will ear- 
nestly and with a kind and reverential 
spirit peruse these nine Essays. He 
deals only with the true and the eternal. 
His piercing gaze at once shoots swiftly, 
surely through the outward and the su- 
perficial, to the inmost causes and work- 
ings. Any one can tell the time who 
looks on the face of the clock, but he 
loves to lay bare the machinery and 
show its moving principle. His words 
and his thoughts are a fresh spring, 

The Rationale of Religious Inquiry $ 

Or, the Question stated, of Reason, the Bible, and the Church. By JAMES 
Martixeau. Third Edition, With a Critical Letter on Rationalism, Mira- 
cles, and the Authority of Scripture, by the late Kev. JOSEPH BLAHCO 
White. 4s. paper cover ; 4s. Gd. cloth. 



that invigorates the soul that is steeped 
therein. His mind is ever dealing with 
the eternal ; and those who only live to 
exercise their lower intellectual facul- 
ties, and desire only new facts and new 
images, and those who have not a feel- 
ing or an interest in the great question 
of mind and matter, eternity and nature, 
will disregard him as unintelligible and 
uninteresting, as they do Bacon and 
iTato, and, indeed, philosophy itself." — 
Douglas Jerrold's Magazine. 

"Beyond social science, because be- 
yond and outside social existence, there 
lies the science of self, the development 
of man in his individual existence, 
within himself and for himself. Of this 
latter science, which may perhaps be 
called the philosophy of individuality, 
Mr. Emerson is an able apostle and 
interpreter." — League. 

"As regards the particular volume of 
Emerson before us, we think it an im- 
provement upon the first series of essays. 
The subjects are better chosen. They 
come more home to the experience of 
the mass of makind, and are conse- 
quently more interesting. Their treat- 
ment also indicates an artistic improve- 
ment in the composition."— Specta tor. 

"All lovers of literature will read 
Mr. Emerson's new volume, as the 
most of them have read his former one ; 
and if correct taste, and sober views of 
life, and such ideas on the higher sub- 
jects of thought as we have been ac- 
customed to account as truths, are 
sometimes outraged, we at least meet 
at every step with originality, imagi- 
nation, and eloquence." — Inquirer. 



I 






y published hij Joint Chapbian. 



nil. CATHOLIC swnw s (couti/incd.) 

Tho Human riiurrli and llodern Society. 

I M imp. of the College Of France. Translated from the French Third 
Edition (With the Author's approbation), by ('. COCKS, H.I.. Svo. 53. OlOth. 



" We take ap this enlightened volume. 

Which aims, in the spirit of history and 

philosophy, to analyze the Romanist 
principle, with peculiar pleasure. A 
glance at the headings of the chapters 
much interested oureeh es, and we doubt 
net will our readers: The Superlath ely 
Catholic Kingdom of Spain; Political 
Results of Catholicism in Spain; The 
Roman Church and the state; The 
Roman Church and Science; The Ro- 
man Church and History; The Roman 
church and Law; The Koman Church 
and Philosophy; The Koman Church 
and Nations; the Roman Church and 
thfl Universal Church."— Christian lle- 
fbrrru r. 

•• ( onsidered as a whole, the book be- 
fore us is the most powerful and philo- 
sophically consistent protest against 
the Etonian Church which has ever 



claimed OUT attention, and, as a Strong 

confirmation of its stirring efficiency, 

we may mention that the excitement it 
has created in Paris has subjected the 
author to a reprimand from both Cham- 
bers of the Legislature, and excommu- 
nication by the Pope." — InqUirer. 

" M. Quinet belongs to the movement 
parly, and has lately been conspicuous 
in resisting the pretensions of the Jesuit 
and French clergy to the exclusive edu- 
cation of the youth of France. Me has 
grappled with his theme both practi- 
cally, and in the philosophical spirit of 

history Hare merits are comprised 

in this volume a genuine spirit 

pervades it, and there are many pasa- 
ges of great depth, originalily and elo- 
quence."— Atlas. 

" .... These eloquent and valuable 
lectures." — New Church Advocate. 



Sermons of Consolation. 

By F. ^y. P. Greenwood, D.D. 5s. cloth 

" This is a really delightful volume, 
which we would gladly see producing 
its purifying and elevating influences in 
all our families." — Inquirer. 

u This beautiful volume we are sure 

Self-Culture. 



will meet with a grateful reception from 
all who seek instruction on the topics 
most interesting to a thoughtful mind. 
There are twenty-seven sermons in the 
V ol ume . " — Christian Examiner. 



By William Ellery Channing. 6d. paper cover ; Is. cloth. 

Christianity or Europe. 

Translated from the German of Novalis (Friedrich von Hardenberg), by 
the Kcv. J. Dalton. Gd. paper cover. 

The Critical and Miscellaneous Writings of Theodore Parker. 

Post Sto, cl< th, 6s. 

"It will be seen from these extracts 
that Theodore Parker is a writer of 
considerable power and freshness, if not 
originality. Of the school ofCarlyle, or 
ertaking the same German originals 
for hi- models, Parker bas a more sober 
and b Less theatric taste. His 
composition wants the grotesoue anima- 
matioD and richness or Oarlyle, but it is 
vivid, strong, and frequently pictur- 
esque, with a tenderness chat the 
itchman does riot possess." — 
Spectator. 

" Viewing him ai a mosl useful, as 
well as highly gifted man, we cordially 
welcome the appearance of an English 
reprint ofsoms of bis best productions. 
i be • Miscellaneous' Pieces are charac- 
I by his peculiar eloquence, which 
ithout a parallel in the works or 



English writers. His language is 
almost entirely figurative ; the glories of 
nature are pressed into his service, and 
Convey his most careless thought. This 
is the principal charm of his writings; 
his eloquence is altogether unlike that 
of the English orator or essayist; it 
partakes <>i' the grandeur of the forests 
in his native land; and we seem, when 
listening to his speech, to hear the 
music of the woods, the rustling of the 
pine 'trees, and the ringing of the wood- 
man's axe. Jn this respect he resem- 
bles Emerson ; but, unlike that cele-' 
brated man, he never discourses audi- 
hlywith himself, in a language unknown 
to tne world he is never obscure ; the 
stream, though deep, reveals the glit- 
tering gems which cluster so thickly on 
its bed. —Inquirer. 



